Bow
by Oblivian03
Summary: A dwarfish warrior wakes up on a battlefield with no recollection of his past life, his name or how he got there. Five years later he has a new life, but something unexpected comes along.
1. Prologue - Dawn

**Prologue – Dawn**

**(I do not own the Hobbit or anything related to it)**

The dwarf woke to the remanets of a bloody battle, bodies scattered everywhere floating in what seemed like a sea of blood. Next to him, a fellow dwarf lay brained with an axe, his eyes staring into space, all spark of life gone. Feeling a little more than slightly queasy, the dwarf closed the fallen warrior's eyelids. Now it just looked like he was sleeping, except for the axe in his head.

Standing, the dwarf looked around trying to remember how he had ended up here. All he got were fuzzy pictures, ones that didn't make any sense. Everything before he had woken was blurry and as he stood there, one by one, the fuzzy images started to fade, leaving him with nothing, not even a name. A tall mountain loomed above him but it looked desolated and lonely amongst the forest that surrounded it.

Stepping forward, the dwarf's foot hit something. Looking down he saw a strong, sturdy bow with its string snapped and a crushed quiver of arrows beside it. As he studied the weapon in the early sunlight, he smiled.

Bending down to stroke the wood, he fitted his hand to the bow and lifted it before setting it back down again. A broken weapon would be useless to him and he did not have the materials to mend the string, but he remained transfixed on the bow. It was utterly mesmerizing and it seemed to call to him as if he were in a trance.

A sharp, stabbing pain brought him back to reality. Looking down, he saw a large gash on his arm, long but thankfully not deep. That did not rule out infection though. Stripping off his cloak, he proceeded to bind the wound, tying the knot with his teeth.

Something glinted as the first rays of light hit it and he scooped it of the ground. He now had a knife, all he needed was a name. Looking back to the bow he remembered what it had felt like in his hands; an extension to his arm, literally a part of him.

Looking up to the sky, he saw the sky painted in streaks of pink, orange and red, bathing the battlefield in light. It was a new dawn and Bow smiled. He disappeared into the forest just as the sun set the tops of the trees ablaze with light.


	2. After

**chapter 1 – After**

Bow yawned as he woke, feeling Sharn's arms wrapped around him. Turning over, he gently stroked her sleeping face before sitting up and stretching. Placing his feet on the floor, Bow blinked blearily in the sunlight that streamed in the small window of their home. Rubbing the thin beard that covered his face, he looked around the simple room. It wasn't much but it was home. Had been for nearly five years.

Standing, the dwarf threw a blue tunic over the breeches he had worn to bed and slowly moved to open the door. Stepping out into the short hallway, Bow yawned again, tying back his hair with a leather strip. Today he had to work in the forge and he was not looking forward to the sweltering heat that would greet him there. Never less, he had to earn money somehow, and being a dwarf, he had the skills to manipulate metal to almost any shape he pleased.

Quietly peeking into his son's room, he watched his child's sleeping form. While he had inherited his mother's chin and more traditional statue (for that he thanked Aulë), he had his father's dark hair and eyes. Barely three, the tiny dwarfing was growing at an immensely fast rate. Soon he would be wearing his parents down to their wits end as they tried to keep up with him. For now though, he was just like any other three year old dwarf.

Wearily pulling on his boots, the dwarf looked out at the blue sky. It would be an opportune day for hunting and Bow made a mental note to take his bow and go hunting if he got the chance. Fresh meat was always good and he was exceptional with the bow.

An arm wrapped around his waist and he felt lips brush his neck. Turning, he meet Sharn's eyes and smiled. She playfully tugged at his whisker covered cheeks.

"Do you remember how long it took until you finally grew this poor excuse for a beard?" she asked, laughter glinting in her eyes.

"Aye," said Bow. Nodding, "I think you were starting to believe you had married an elf." Sharn chortled.

"Well," she said, "You would have made to be a very handsome elf."

"And a short one at that," Bow finished. They both shared a kiss before standing.

"See you when you get back from the forges," said Sharn. Bow smiled dolefully.

"Aye, after I have finished making Durin knows what for the humans. I swear, even trolls have better taste then them! I could give them a worn down coal bucket and they would think it was made of gold," he said. Sharn shook her head.

"You and your sense of humour."

Bow gave her another quick kiss before walking out the door and into the streets of the town. Striding towards the forges he was met by Derain, a friend of his who also worked at the forges. Nodding to each other, they reached the doors and set to work, quickly beating out the metal to the form so desired by the humans that watched them. The muscles in Bow's arms, while lean, were strong and he made quick work of each order, finishing it to a quality of a high standing making him a popular choice for the humans.

Gritting his teeth, he raised his hammer to strike and brought it down once more onto the sheet of metal, his thoughts drowned out by the noise of the forge.


	3. Royalty

**Chapter 2 – Royalty**

**Note: Thanks for your reviews. I am glad you are liking it so far.**

It was several days later when they came.

Bow was working in the forge when a ruckus started in the streets outside. Stepping out the entrance, Bow wiped his hands on his apron and looked for the source of the commotion. A procession of dwarfish soldiers from Erebor were parading down the street heading towards the forge. All the men that were present left as the company came to a halt outside the forge. Derain appeared at Bow's side, stroking his braided beard as they waited to see what the officials wanted. Owin stepped forward, being the oldest dwarf present and the respected elder and representative of the dwarves of this town.

"Good day to you sirs. What would be your business here?" he said. The soldiers shifted their ponies to the side and four dwarfs rode up. One was bald, his head supporting black tattoos and his build huge and menacing. The oldest had a long white beard and a serious expression. The blonde one was the youngest of the four and was dressed in finer furs than Bow would normally see. Last was the dwarf who rode in front. He rode with an air of majesty and superiority around him. Adorned on his dark head of hair was a silver and gold circlet and his fur cape was of the finest quality Bow had ever laid eyes upon.

"My king," Owin muttered, bowing deeply. The other dwarves followed suit.

Straightening, Bow fixed his gaze on the youngest. If the one in front was the legendary King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield, that would make the blonde one Fili, his only nephew and heir. The white haired dwarf would be the king's closest advisor, Lord Balin, and the dwarf with the tattoos would be Lord Dwalin, Balin's brother and one of the king's closet and oldest friends. All four were part of the group responsible for reclaiming the lost city. Something told Bow this visit was not just because they were passing through.

Thorin nodded at the dwarves before him before returning his gaze to Owin.

"We are here because we are seeking several men to join our forces while we journey on westwards. We have been to all the villages in our path and have too asked this of them." Scrutinising the army before him, Bow was startled when he saw the faces of several farmers he knew well. He shared a glance with Derain whose own green eyes looked equally startled.

"May I be so bold as to inquire why our king would ask such a thing of us blacksmiths and farmers?" Owin said brashly. The King Under the Mountain nodded.

"There has been an increase in raids by small parties of orcs in the outlying villages." Bow's blood boiled. There had been many casualties due to these raids over the past five years; many good folk killed. He stepped forward and fixed the king with an unyielding stare.

"There has been raids in the outlying villages for years and you are only now doing something about it now?" he asked, his fury barely contained. Lord Dwalin and the soldiers shifted angrily while the other three officials stared at him, wondering whether to applaud or punish his boldness for addressing the king in such a way.

"Bow," Owin snapped, seeking to avert any chance of the situation taking a turn for the worse, "Stand down." Bowing his head, the dwarf stepped back, but his hands still shook with anger. Bow did not pay attention to the conversation that followed afterwards, but caught the sidelong glances the crowned prince of Erebor shot him. It was not until someone shouted fire that he look up. But it was not until he heard a scream pierce the air that he moved.

"Sharn," he yelled as he ran towards his now burning house, the other blacksmiths close behind him.

**A word of warning, the next chapter will include a fair amount of angst. Please review.**


	4. Fire

**Chapter 3 – Fire**

**Note: Artemis Faery - Longer chapter as requested.**

**Also, you might hate me after this but please keep reading and reviewing.**

Bow ran faster than he had ever remembered running. Thick, black smoke was churning out of the windows and upwards towards the sky as those nearby formed a chain to desperately try to put out the fire. Another scream made Bow's feet grow wings and he surged ahead, the others barely keeping up.

Both men and dwarves alike had given up trying to put out the now uncontrollable blaze and had started dousing the nearby houses in an attempt to save them from the fire. Bow was about to burst through the open door when he felt hands grab him from behind.

"It's no use," Derain told him, "There is nothing you can do." Bow fought the hands that held him in a desperate attempt to get to his family. His heart broke as yet another scream broke out before being followed by a heart wrenching cry of a child.

_"What will you call him?" asked Bow as Sharn held up the newborn babe for him to inspect._

_"I do not know," she looked up, eyes glinting with unshed tears of joy, "As the father, you should name him."_

_Bow thought awhile, looking at the child's dark eyes. The newborn turned to blink at him, before opening his tiny mouth and gurgling. Bow smiled; the face reminded him of the sun, golden and bright in the darkest times, shining through the dark clouds that were his mind for the majority of the past five years. Clouds that not even Sharn could remove with all her loving attention._

_"I think he will be called…" Looking upon the nameless child for a second time, Bow peered deep into his son's eyes and saw something else there, a faint reminded of a past life. But in the blink of an eye it was replaced by the wide eyed look of an innocent babe._

_"Bow?" asked his wife when the dwarf did not resume speaking. Bow shook himself from his daze._

_"His name will be Arón, after your brother and in memory of the great actions he performed." Sharn nodded, showing her approval, the tears she had held back only now beginning to track down her face, sorrow mingling with joy._

_"Well Arón, welcome to the world."_

"Papa!" That single cry all but sent Bow over the edge and he started really fighting.

Downing those who were holding him back, he heard someone yelling. As he stepped towards the door and had the feeling it was him. The frenzied dwarf almost made it through when he was yanked away in a tight bear hug. Several flaming beams crashed down where he had been standing seconds before, blocking the doorway.

Bow started to panic as more and more screams sounded, filling his ears and blocking everything else out, including reason. Especially reason.

_"Mama."_

_"Ha, I win. I told you he would say my name first." Bow raised his eyebrows._

_"Technically that is not your name." Sharn fixed him with a glare._

_"It is to him. You're just a sore loser."_

_"Bow." Both of them turned to look upon their son before Bow threw his head back and laughed._

_"I told he would say _my name_ first." Sharn punched him on the arm._

_"Has it occurred to you that he is referring to the pitiful weapon you insist on using?" That sobered him up._

_"You're just a sore loser," he said as Sharn picked up their child. She stuck her tongue out at him. When Arón copied her, it sent them both into a laughing fit._

Someone was yelling right beside him but he was too caught up in his frenzy to reach his family to understand the words. He needed to save them, to get them out of the fire.

_"Don't worry, I will always protect you, and any child you should bear, whether it be my own or not." Sharn looked up from her crying and stared at him, dumbfounded._

_"Bow…" she started. The dwarf shook his head placing a finger on her lips._

_"I love you Sharn, and, if you agree, I will marry you. Your brother gave his approval as your oldest living male relative before…this," he finished, gesturing around them._

_"I will," was all Sharn replied._

Kicking back with his left leg, he felt the dwarf holding him grunt in pain, relaxing his grip slightly. Bow proceeded to throw off the dwarf, fear giving him strength as he heard the thud as the dwarf hit the ground. With no one to hold him back, he crashed through the barrier to his family shoulder first, shattering it on impact and continued to surge through the door running on adrenaline.

Coming to a halt in the living room, Bow stopped and looked around, coughing as the smoke got into his lungs. His vision blurred slightly and he let out a soft cry as he took in the body lying motionless on the floor in the doorway of his son's room. Kneeling beside his wife's still form, he frantically checked for a pulse and found nothing. Only then did he remember the screaming suddenly stop.

No. It couldn't be possible. He placed a hand on her swollen belly, muttering prayers to Mahal that this may all be just a nightmare, that he would wake at any moment. But he did not and his brain screamed at him that there was nothing he could do, but there was a small chance that his son, Arón, may have survived.

Kissing Sharn's forehead, he crossed the threshold into his son's room. The sight that met him knocked out all his defences and Bow let out a heartbroken wail. His mind had lied.

His child, his son lay underneath a charred beam, of his small body only his face and lower half visible.

Now in a state of denial, Bow threw of the length of timber pinning down the dwarfling and tried in vain to feel for a pulse. He felt hands grab his shoulders, shaking them but he paid them no heed as he finally accepted the consequences of what had happened.

His family was dead, taken from him in the cruellest of ways. Now there was no one left.

Bow let out another wail and buried his head into his Arón's hair. His son, his little boy that still had so much to live for, still had so much to do but no longer had the chance to do it. He would never hold his first hammer or feel the heat of the forges on his face. A life, gone, wasted by the cruelty of life. Tears streamed freely down his face as he continued mourn for his loss, a strange keening noise coming from his throat. Let the fire take him so he could be with them in Mahal.

He felt himself being dragged away but he had lost the will to fight, the will to live. There was nothing for him now. Everything that had ever meant anything to him was gone.

He blinked as someone shouted in his face, their words ringing with a stern, authoritative tone, but he could not comprehend the words. The last thing Bow felt was the sensation of falling slowly forward as his eyes rolled up and darkness took him.

**If you are going to plot my demise me, I only ask you do it after I finish Bow.**


	5. Lost

**Chapter 4 – Lost**

Note: I am a sad, sadistic creature who enjoys adding drama in my works (and unfortunately this includes killing off some of my characters-I also was unsure of what to do with his family when he finally does remember) and I thank you for continuing to read my story. The drama is not over yet. And yes, I know I am cruel.

If you have questions bear with me, just know I don't like giving everything away in one go so you may have to wait a couple of chapters.

Bow stirred, hearing voices talking.

"Don't worry, he will be fine. Anyone who can take down Dwalin like that can surely survive inhaling a lungful of smoke."

"It's not the smoke I'm worried about."

_A body lying motionless on the floor, hands placed protectively over the swollen belly that housed a small miracle yet to be born. No pulse beating against the skin that seemed both deathly cold and unnaturally hot at the same time. No breath left on the lips that had once been lush and full of life. Nothing left to even suggest the faintest sign of hope._

Sharn. She was gone as was the unborn child she had carried and Arón, their firstborn son. Lost in to the flames that had ravaged the house he had built by hand as a wedding gift to his new bride.

The broken dwarf felt a lone tear trail down his face and shuddered, holding back the gasping sob he so wanted to let lose.

_An image of all three of them together, sitting in front of the fire one cold night of that winter._

_He was fresh back from the forges where work had been slow and the usual banter with Derain a little toned down. Sharn had finished all the usual chores and had a pot of stew simmering away, its heart aroma filling the small house. Between the two sat Arón, asleep in a pile of blankets, only tuffs of hair peeking out from the top. It was a peaceful scene, none of them having to do anything or be anywhere save in the comfort of their own arms._

_Bow looked over at his wife and her round figure. She was about halfway through a regular pregnancy, if all things went well, which they rarely did. The content dwarf hoped that to would prove to be a boy, but the mother opposed. She hoped it would be a girl, stating that two men around the house were enough to keep her occupied without adding another male to the mix._

_He sighed, content with the small life he had built them, far from the shambles they had started with. True, it could be better, but at least they had everything they needed and desired; a simple life, a few good friends and a small family. Nothing could replace those few things Bow treasured more than any substance throughout the land._

Gaining control of himself, he opened his eyes and found himself laying in a bed in a strange room. Two darkened silhouettes stood in the doorway. One of them he recognised as Derain, and they were both in deep conversation, now speaking too low for him to hear.

For a while he just lay there, trying not to think of the events that had just occurred. But he could not get the cold, pale faces of the two he had loved out of his head, three if he included the unborn child. Finally, when he could bear it no more, he called out to his friend. Derain turned and blinked in surprise.

"Bow," he said, sounding slightly shocked, "You're awake." The said dwarf smiled sarcastically.

"Thanks for pointing that out," he said, "I wouldn't have realised otherwise." Sitting up on his elbows, Bow looked around. "So, where am I and who is the grey bearded fellow beside you?" Derain smiled.

"You are currently taking possession my bed and this is Oin, the healer who came with the king's company." Bow raised his eyebrows. He knew exactly who Oin was, everybody (at least every dwarf) did.

"The king's healer? What's he doing here?" Oin smiled sadly at him. Derain shot him a warning look, his green eyes looking even more intense than usual as he twirled a finger around one of the braids in his raven black hair.

"Well, I am a healer by profession and it is my job to look after the sick and injured," he said. Bow frowned at him. He did not like being kept in the dark. He had enough mystery in his life to last him a thousand lifetimes, but, instead of forcing an answer out of either one of them, he stood up. They were both instantly at his side, pushing him back down onto the bed.

"Oh no you don't," the healer told him, "You are not leaving until I say you can." Bow gave him a belligerent stare, suddenly furious.

"In case you don't know, I have two funerals to plan and two of my kin to mourn," he ground out, "Plus a child of mine who died with its mother, in her womb, unnamed and unborn. So if you don't mind, I will be going." Derain grimaced at him.

"Come on Bow, don't tell me I took the chair for nothing." Something about the way his friend wouldn't meet his eye put Bow on alert and he stopped his struggle against the two.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked. Derain looked away while the healer looked at him with that sad expression again. "Derain…"

"There…there's nothing much left for a…a proper funeral," he stammered, still refusing to look Bow in the eye. The dwarf felt a growing apprehension in the pit of his stomach.

"What do you mean?" he asked, though he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what the answer would be.

"The fire, it…it… Bow, I'm so sorry but the fire burned them to…to…" Bow held up his hand to stop his friend from continuing. He knew what he was going to say and he didn't want to hear it, as if it not being said could erase the fact.

They had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of charred bones and a heap of ash.

_Bone and Ash_.

How could he bury them now? How could he pay them the proper respects that they deserved? How could he go on knowing that what they had suffered in their last moments would be more than he would eve suffer in his entire life?

"Get out," he said, shoulders starting to shake. When neither of them moved, he raised his voice. "GET OUT...leave me in peace." They both did as he asked and left, Oin, flashing him another sympathetic smile. As if he wanted any noble's pity, let alone one who acted as if they understood what he was going through. Though the healer would know; at least he would have seen cases similar to his, if not the same, but still…

"Derain, wait," Bow called out as something occurred to him. His friend paused at the door.

"What?" he asked cautiously, looking down at his feet.

"Why did no one try to save them?" he asked. Derain looked up, the relief he felt almost evident in his eyes. Almost.

"There were mostly old men, women and children around that area, some younger men. The rest were either at the forges or doing business elsewhere," he took a breath, "The men who were close did try to save Sharn, but until you got there, they didn't even know Arón was still inside." Derain looked at his friend, sorrow and regret filling his eyes, "They did try, but it got too hot too fast and they couldn't find a way past the flames or the barricade that blocked them from getting to Sharn. Most were too far away to get there before the entrance filled with flames. In the end we could only stand back and watch and try to stop you from sharing their fate. Not that it worked," Derain shifted his gaze towards the ceiling, "I knew only you would be mad enough to run into there, but who wouldn't if it was their own family? It was a miracle you could get past the flames and the smoke, but then again, when it comes to you and your family in danger, it is like you become nigh on invincible. Unfortunately, there was a good chance we could have lost you too if Lord Dwalin had not dragged you out."

Bow reeled at this last piece of information. Why had the noble saved him? It wasn't like they had ever met before. Though it may have been possible years ago, he refused to entertain the notion.

Looking back up, he motioned for his friend to depart and thankfully he did, though he sighed deeply as Bow refused to answer his parting greet.

Alone, Bow let his feelings take over his mind. How could Durin be so cruel? To lose both of them in a fire was bad enough, but to not be able to bury their bodies… No, that was the worst. So it was then, in the depths of his despair, that Bow finally let his tears fall.

**Please review. **


	6. Choices

**Just a general note on some reviews I have been receiving (updated chapter below). I accept your criticism but you have to bear with me and keep in mind this is the first real fanfic that I have written and I am still sort of getting the grasp of it.**

**I know that the dwarves would not have just stood by as the fire burned but I didn't think of that when I wrote the chapter and now I am trying to fix that without losing where I wanted my story to go. I still appreciate you bringing it to my attention though and I will keep that in mind for next time.**

**I also killed off Bow's family because I would have gotten writers block otherwise. I am not very good at writing situations that involve families with young kids (meaning any fanfic involving Fili and Kili will be set when they are older) and I sort of already wrote a couple of my later chapters before this one meaning I had to somehow get the situation to diverge to that path. The fire also did not just start. It happens. A stray spark then WHOOSH! you have a blazing inferno (just needed to clear that up). **

**Also, in relation to Kili meeting the company. Think about it. If they have not seen him for five years and thought he was dead, they might be hesitant as they might be afraid it could turn out to not be him and just someone who really looks like him. (It is him by the way and I appreciate you got my clues). Also, if you were Fili or Thorin and Kili obviously didn't remember who you were at all or who he was, would you just go up and say; "Kili, glad we found you. Just so you know, your sort of a prince of Erebor now and second in line to the throne." I hope you will agree that approach is not really logical. **

**Bear in mind it is also in Bow's point of view so he may not realise that they know who he really is. In this chapter though, he joins the company. They do not confront him until either the next chapter or the chapter after, but they are going to be sneaky about it. I am just warning you. You also should have picked up one or two hints that the company knows something about Bow he doesn't. If you haven't, please go back and reread.**

**I am sorry, but I needed to vent, though I say the above in the calmest possible way. I have been trying to get the chapters up fairly quickly so you can read them. Lack of sleep doesn't help my case either. Please keep reviewing though, I do not mind _some_ criticism or compliments.**

**Chapter 5 - Choices**

Sitting in one of the chairs at Derain's fireplace, Bow absentmindedly fiddled with the weapon his hands. The dwarf had gone back to the charred remains of his house to see if anything could be scavenged from the ruins. Most of everything had either been burned beyond recognition or saturated with so much smoke that it was untouchable. Sharn's pendant that he had carved her survived though and he now wore it around his neck on a leather thong. His bow too had survived as had his quiver and, more surprisingly, most of his arrows as well.

Unable to prepare a proper funeral for the lack of bodies, this had been the only thing that could get him some small sense of closure. He had also buried their remains in a small, earthen jar underneath the sycamore tree that had stood just meters away from the ruins of his home.

Derain had offered to go with him but he had refused on the bases that he needed to do it alone. Bow thanked Aluë that his friend had understood. It was hard enough as it was without the pitying looks Bow received everywhere he went. Whether it was because he was proud or stubborn, the young dwarf didn't know, but he refused to let anyone help him.

From what he had been told, no one knew of the origin of the fire. It had most likely been caused by sparks from the fireplace setting on something flammable. It had, of course, been a complete coincidence that the royal party had come. Had they not, there would have been more people around to try and save his family. For that alone, their deaths could be blamed on the dwarves from Erebor. And then there were past events to consider. Past events involving Sharn's only living relative at the time.

Bow looked up as his friend entered through the door.

"Hi," Derain said hesitantly, like Bow would break at any minute. He growled.

"Derain, I do not want your pity nor do I need it," he said, "So stop tiptoeing around me and spit out whatever it is you wish to say." Derain shuffled, looking at the ground.

"I…I'm going to join the king," was all he said. Bow growled again, but this time it was not directed at the dwarf in front of him.

The king had decided to stay for several days while his healer, Oin, had treated Bow, or at least tried to treat him as best as Bow would allow. He was still confused as to why the dwarf had treated him at all. It was not like there weren't other healers in the village, many of whom he was on friendly terms with, unlike the high status one that he was stuck with. And then there was the fact of the events almost five years ago. If Sharn was still alive…Bow could not believe his friend was going to join the king.

"Good for you," he muttered before grabbing his bow and walking out the door. He paused as Derain called out to him, his friend misunderstanding the direction of his anger.

"I am truly sorry. There was nothing we could do. Even if we could have, they would have been dead by the time we reached them. They had breathed in too much smoke." Bow gave an acknowledging grunt, before continuing to stride away.

He headed towards the edge of the village, where he could practice shooting at targets, something that would ease his mind. He shook his head at the thought of Derain aiding the king in any endeavour. The king who had let the raids go on for so long.

Frustrated, Bow aimed at the targets, barely seeing them as he let the arrows fly. Once the last was sent flying, he heard a voice behind him.

"That was the sloppiest release I have ever seen." It was Oin, the king's healer. "Didn't miss the mark though. You must be one good archer."

Bow ignored him and went to remove the arrows from the bullseye. He almost never missed and the fact that someone had pointed it out, a noble none the less, didn't faze him. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and shrugged it off.

"Do know I am sorry for your lose." Bow turned around.

"I don't need your sympathy." Oin meet his gaze evenly.

"You have it never the less." Bow muttered a curse under his breath, too low for the dwarf to hear.

"If you insist on giving it, then I believe I am at liberty to ask exactly why you decided to heal me when you don't even know me." A sorrowful look passed over Oin's face and he stared the disgruntled archer squarely in the eye.

"A…friend of mine asked me to," seeing this wasn't going to be enough to satisfy the dwarf in front of him, he continued, "He said that…you…reminded him of someone." Bow raised his eyebrows but, however much he doubted the healer, it was a plausible explanation. He turned back around to continue retrieving his arrows. Oin stood there for a time before speaking again.

"You would be an asset to the company," said the older dwarf, "We just lost one of our archers. Will you join?" Bow snorted. Oin moved in front of him. "You know the king is not as bad as you make him out to be." The younger dwarf growled.

"Then why has it taken so long for him to do something?" he asked. Oin shook his head.

"Rebuilding Erebor was a long and hard task and he has only just heard about the situation that is occurring around here now. There have been more raids further in and it doesn't take a day to march thousands of leagues. Besides, the villagers need help." Leaving Bow alone in the field, Oin took his leave. In was in that moment he came to a decision.

Quickly walking back to his friend's house, he packed his things together. Pulling back his upbraided hair in a plain, iron clasp he donned the leather coat he had borrowed from Derain over his blue tunic. Grabbing his bow and pack, he made his way to where the king's company was encamped.

"What is your business here?" The hulking figure of Lord Dwalin stepped forward from the shadows. Bow looked at him boldly, noticing the way the seasoned warrior blinked in surprise at him, a look of longing flitting over his face briefly before it was replaced by an angry scowl. Drawing himself up, Bow drew in a breath to answer the question.

"I hear you are in need of an archer."

**Again, I am sorry for above but it is frustrating me and I felt the need to explain. Also, sorry if the chapter isn't up to scratch but I am tired and right now, couldn't care less. I may just go back and fix it though. Also expect more Balin, Oin and Dwalin than Fili and Thorin, but that may change. Thanks for continuing to read and basically, PLEASE DON'T REVIEW ABOUT CHAPTER THREE ANYMORE (unless it is a different piece of criticism or compliment) don't worry, I know what I done wrong and I will not make the same mistake twice.**


	7. Escape

**Note:**

**Artemis Faery - I swear I do not mean to keep misspelling that. Thanks for pointing it out (again).**

**Cyphercat - reading your review gave me the idea for this chapter. Thanks. I am also pleased you picked up his grudge. I hope it will make things interesting.**

**I am willing to do an extra piece at the end (once I finish the actual story) where the fire does not happen. This will not change much, as, like I mentioned before, families with young children are not my strong point. It will probably be made up of two, maybe three additional chapters of the bit before he joins the company and the very end of the story. If you would like me to do this, please state.**

**Chapter 6 - Escape**

Bow sat opposite of Derain, twiddling his thumbs as he stared at his boots. Derain fiddled with the edge of his coat.

They were camped in a small clearing a fair way from their village. It was a place the royals had decided the new recruits would receive basic training and, of the nobles, only Balin and Dwalin remained with the reasonable sized group; Dwalin as he was the best warrior in the company, and Balin as he was in charge of the new recruits before they were assigned to their unit.

Of their village, around thirty men had agreed to join, each for their own reason; a chance at fame and glory, a yearning for adventure or a sense of duty towards their fellow people. For Bow's friend, it was a little of all three.

"I want to do my part," he was saying, "I cannot just stand back and watch as misfortune befalls upon others." Bow raised his eyebrows.

"Is that all?" he questioned sceptically, "I guess you have changed from the man who wanted to explore the world and be known for something other than nailing a horseshoe backwards on the horse four times in a row." Derain smiled sheepishly.

"I suppose those may have contributed somewhat to my final decision." Bow playfully jabbed him in the side.

"How much did they contribute exactly?" he asked slyly. Derain blushed.

"Ah…quite possibly at least a…quarter."

"A quarter?!" Bow's tone was disbelieving. Derain looked over the top of his friends head.

"Maybe…more like…half," he reluctantly replied, clearly embarrassed. But Bow wasn't going to stop there. He was enjoying himself for once since….since the fire.

"Half?" His tone was mockingly scornful, "Come on Derain, you can do better than that." The corner of the raven haired dwarf's mouth twitched.

"Would you believe…three quarters?" Bow shook his head.

"I am sadly disappointed in you," he began, "I would have expected an answer that was at least…oh, I don't know. I give up."

"Three quarters it is then," Derain chirped happily. Bow punched him lightly.

"Don't get too smug about it. I'm only letting you off because I feel sorry for you."

The two sat for a while, watching as the others acquainted themselves (most of them knew each other anyway). Training would start tomorrow, no excuses, and anyone who couldn't keep up would either be sent back home or would be allocated a less involved position in battle. This would probably be more than likely in a fair few cases as many of the assembled dwarves had only ever wielded a hammer. Bow knew he was safe however, for Oin had offered him a position with the archers, meaning that his skill had already been approved of by a noble. Not that it mattered to the dark haired dwarf. Oin was a noble and therefore, by Bow's reckoning, no good. Although he was still mystified as to why the healer had helped him, then offered his condolences (which Bow had refused to accept) and a position in the company (which Bow had accepted).Why would a dwarf of his standing want anything to do with a commoner? They had already shown their true colours once before so Bow knew exactly how they thought.

As the first stars began to appear in the dusky sky, Derain broke the prolonged silence.

"So why did you join?" he asked, "I know for one thing it wasn't out of any sense of duty to the king at least. And nor was it for a chance at adventure. You are not that type at all." Bow looked at him and then looked down.

"I suppose since you told me, I had better tell you," he said. Derain shrugged.

"If that's the way you see it."

"That is the way I see it," Bow replied. He looked out towards the fire which was a good distance away from them, close enough so they could still feel the effects of the light and warmth, but far enough away so it wouldn't plague him with atrocious nightmares. "I joined because I believe in helping those who cannot help themselves, in protecting the common folk from evils they themselves cannot fight against."

"That's deep," joked Derain in an attempt to lighten the brooding dwarf's mood, "Surely there must be more to it than that alone." Bow nodded.

"You are right," he told him, "There is something else. I suppose I see it as a ways of escape of sorts." Beside him, his friend frowned.

"How so?" he asked, "You're not making any sense Bow." The archer continued to look into the depths of the fire.

"It's an escape from it all," he said, sighing, "And it is a great way for me to start afresh." Though still retain my own memory, Bow added in his head.

Derain looked at him, confused.

"Why would you want a new start, a new life?" he inquired, "You have one back home in the village." Bow grimaced.

"That's the problem; the village. It is too resent, too close to them. I need a change of scene, a new identity. So when the healer offered me a chance to go with them and become part of the king's army, I accepted. What else was I going to do besides sit around a grieve? Might as well make myself useful."

Besides, Sharn would approve of what he was doing. It was her, after all, that had pointed out the fact something should be done about the raids.

Sharn…it hurt to think about her, them, and Bow allowed himself to be pulled deeper into the brooding mood. But Derain was having none of that.

"Cheer up Bow, you know what they are always saying about looking on the bright side of life." Bow looked up at his friend suddenly furious, tearing his gaze away from the fire.

"What bright side Derain? My _entire_ family was killed in that blaze; _everything_ that I had worked to achieve over these past five years gone in the blink of an eye. And I am supposed to find the good side to that?" Derain meet his gaze evenly.

"Sharn would not want you to wallow in self-pity over her death Bow."

"Self-pity? What self-pity? I am not wallowing in self-pity!" Derain shook his head knowingly.

"Not intentionally maybe, but you are wallowing. What do you call this?" Bow looked at his thumbs. Maybe he was wallowing, but for good reason. He now had no one left to tie him down to any place.

"You may be right, but why shouldn't I wallow for a while?" He was getting on defensive again. Derain held up his hands.

"You have every right to mourn them, and you know I mourn them with you. Not in the same way but still..." Bow refused to meet his friends gaze. "But," continued Derain, "You cannot let it rule your life. I have seen it happen to men before, they lose themselves in their sorrows and never make it back out and into the light again. I do not want to see the same happen to you." With that said, the raven haired dwarf got up and walked over to several other recruits, leaving Bow to think upon the words he had just said.

Again Bow found his gaze captivated by the fire but this time the glowing red-orange flames stirred painful memories still fresh in his mind. And with those memories came anger.

**Before you ask, from here on in Bow will pretty much be interacting with the company just about every chapter. Please review (I know I could have done this better).**


	8. Training

**Note: I know this is a bad chapter, but I couldn't think of anything and got a bit stuck so don't judge (sorry). Next one will be better I promise.**

**Chapter 7 - Trials**

The first day of actual training was the hardest, and, from that, those in charge of the recruits weeded out the weak from the strong. All in all, there were around twenty-five left after the first initial stages, including Bow and Derain.

"Your next task will require you to use your wits," Lord Dwalin started. The recruits stood to attention as their instructor gave his orders, "Myself and several others have set up several traps around this clearing. It will be your job to find and spring them as a team. Good luck." With that, the hulking warrior walked off, Lord Balin and the other soldiers following after him. Bow watched them leave, his anger for them simmering before he pushed it down. He had a job to do.

"So, where do we start first?" inquired one of the older dwarves. The others looked at each other.

"Maybe we should start by looking for any abnormalities." That suggestion belonged to a fair haired dwarf. The others shrugged. It seemed logical enough.

"Alright then, let's get started." This line belonged to Derain. Everyone else agreed and they started a thorough scan of the clearing, combing over every section.

"Well, they hid it well," grumbled Derain. Bow ignored him and continued to scan around for any signs of a disturbance.

"Maybe we need to think outside of the box," he mumbled to himself. He looked up as another dwarf shouted that he had found something.

Running over, they all crowded around.

"Now how do you suppose we spring that without getting caught in it?" asked a rather bulky dwarf. Elion if Bow remembered correctly. They all thought about this.

It was a simple trap, a large net spread out across an equally large area with several trigger points barely visible to the naked eye. It should detonate when several large rocks were thrown onto it, close enough to the trigger points to spring the trap.

Several dwarves took up position, the others watching in case one missed their target. Bow shifted uneasily. He felt like they had missed something.

"On three," started the eldest present, "Ready?" The others nodded. "Alright then, one…" Bow defiantly felt something was wrong. "Two…" He looked around at ground level before instinct made him look up. "Three-"

"Don't move," yelled Bow, cutting the other dwarf off at the last moment. The others stared at him, several teetering precariously over the edge of the original trap.

"What is it?" asked Derain, sounding slightly exasperated.

"Look up," Bow replied, gesturing towards the tree tops. They all followed his directions.

"Well that complicates things." The obvious statement belonged to Elion.

"You would think," snapped back Bow. Now how were they going to do this?

Exactly four lengths of rope stretched up and around the trunks of four separate trees. And attached to the ends of those ropes was another net ready to drop. Quite clever really. A backup system. Bow had obviously underestimated the nobles, Lord Dwalin in particular. He had thought the large dwarf was more brut than brains. That was now proven wrong. In a way, he almost respected the warrior. But that did not help solve their current problem.

"We need to take out that trap first." They all turned to stare at him.

"And how would you suggest doing that?" asked the one he had interrupted scornfully. Bow shrugged.

"Looking at the position of the net, I would say you would need to climb up to disable it." All the others stared at him.

"You are expecting a dwarf to climb up a tree? Even for you, that's daft." Derain had always had so much faith in him.

"Well we can't cut the ropes from here or else the net will fall on us. I also can't shoot them from here."

"Why not?" Mahal they sounded like whiny children.

"Because I cannot see through the branches." Really, it was obvious.

Bow looked around, waiting for them all to spring into action. None did. Typical, stubborn dwarves.

"Fine. I'll do it." With that, the archer hoisted himself up onto the lowest branch of the first tree. It was so easy it was like he had done it before. Then again, he probably had.

Shaking his head clear of the thought, he continued to pull himself further up the tree until he was well hidden in the foliage. Several more branches further up and he was at the place where the rope was attached. Pulling his knife out, he looked for a logical place to cut. Maybe if he let the net fall onto the one below…

"Look out below," he called a moment before the branch crashed to the floor. There was a moment of stunned silence as Bow swung his way back down before they all started talking at once.

"Nicely done."

"A bit more warning next time."

"How did you know that there was a trap within a trap?"

"You could have killed us!" There always had to be a pessimist in the crowd.

"What do we do now?" This question belonged to Derain.

"Now you set up watch and prepare camp for the night." They all turned to find Lord Balin standing there next to his brother and the twelve others they had left with.

"Well, what are you all waiting for? Move about." The fierce bark belonged to Lord Dwalin but the look in his eyes suggested that he was pleased with the performance of the recruits, something Bow found sightly surprising.

The clearing burst into activity as each prepared their sleeping space and routine shifts were organised.

"I didn't know you could climb like that." Bow turned to Derain.

"Unlike you, I am light enough to reach the higher branches."

"Yeah, rub in in why don't you. At least I am a normal sized dwarf." Bow grinned and punched him.

"Go to sleep Derain, no one cares." The other dwarf laughed, but before long, his snores filled his friend's ears leaving Bow to deal with memories he would rather forget.

_"You're not scared are you?" jeered Sharn. Her brother laughed next to her._

_"If you won't go up, I will." And true to his word, the dwarf climbed up and three bright red apples fell into Bow's hands._

_"Nice to know someone isn't afraid of heights," said Sharn as he brother returned to the ground. Bow smiled discreetly to himself at the scene of joy before him, though he got a haunting feeling that he had been in this situation before._

Bow woke with a quiet gasp, tears streaking down his face as he remembered the pain he had experienced only weeks after that day.

Looking over to where the hunched over figure of Lord Dwalin sat, Bow watched as the flames flickered against the darkness surrounding him.

The archer watched for a time until sleep overtook him, unaware that the intimidating dwarf was watching him as well.

**Please review.**


	9. Sword Play

**Note: Hope you enjoy this chapter. It involves a lot more of the company.**

**Doodler100 - Thanks for pointing that out. Noted and changed.**

**Chapter 8 - Sword Play**

Derain hit the ground with a thud.

"You need to move your feet more," Lord Dwalin growled. The taller dwarf was trying to teach them how to wield a sword and the new recruits were not doing so well on their first go, except of course for a few notable exceptions. Lord Dwalin was an intimidating opponent and with his added years of experience, he was a seemingly unbeatable force.

There was another thud as yet another dwarf hit the ground.

"Keep your emotions in check." Thud. Another growled comment, again and again and again. Soon it was Bow's turn to face the taller dwarf for his first lesson in sword fighting.

Holding his sword in both hands, Bow stood awkwardly, changing his stance as his superior instructed. He might despise nobles, but there was no denying that Lord Dwalin was an excellent warrior and a teacher worth listening to.

They circled each other slowly as before Lord Dwalin began to launch an attack. With each blow he managed to land on the smaller dwarf, he rattled off one of his rules.

"One; never take your eyes off me." Bow changed his grip on the hilt of the blunted sword. Lord Dwalin had gotten under his guard and dealt him a hard blow on the leg. The brown haired dwarf was finding that Lord Dwalin's fighting techniques were not working for someone of his size and proportion. He did not have the bulk that most dwarves had to pull off the moves and it was giving him a distinct disadvantage.

"Two; pay attention." Bow had been distracted by trying to place his feet the way his instructor had told him to allowing the more experienced dwarf to get him on the other leg. Now they were both hurting like crazy. Bow knew he only had a limited amount of time before his legs gave way and Lord Dwalin downed him as well. As the two dwarfs went back to circling each other, Bow decided to do things his own way.

As the taller dwarf came towards him, Bow stood his ground, ignoring Dwalin's shouts telling him to move. Holding his sword steady, he prayed to Mahal that it would work.

Bow waited until Dwalin was about to strike before he moved, dodging the blade and bringing up his own sword to block any strike his opponent might send him with surprising speed and precision. Dwalin chased him back a few steps and Bow let him as he dodged the blows with a grace almost equal to that of the elves. The other dwarves gasped, on the edge of their seats. No one had lasted this long with the feared warrior.

It was too late when Bow realised his mistake. Dwalin had driven him up against a rocky face. Grinning, the older dwarf moved to knock his opponent to the floor. Bow felt his foot strike rock and he unconsciously pushed up with both his legs, leaping over the taller dwarf. Landing on both feet behind Dwalin, Bow proceeded to knock the dwarf's legs from under him and point is sword to Dwalin's chest. The other dwarves held their breaths. The fight had ended and he was still standing.

"Three; never underestimate your opponent," Bow panted before frowning. Where had that come from? Lord Dwalin raised his eyebrows at him before laughing.

"Aye," he said, "You have a strong arm." Bow nodded respectfully, if somewhat stiffly, at the compliment as he grabbed the old warrior's arm and helped him up.

"As do you." It was almost a forced answer, indeed he had only replied out of the general courtesy all dwarves were required to show their superiors.

The young dwarf retreated to the sidelines and watched as the taller dwarf continued to coach the new recruits in the art of sword fighting. He had to admit, unlike the other nobles, Lord Dwalin was…different. He seemed to have developed a rapport with each of his men shown through his stern but kind guidance Bow had just experienced. He knew from some of the older soldiers that the seasoned warrior held the lives of his men before his own, indeed he had in the great battle that took place outside the halls of Erebor just over five years ago, saving several dwarves from certain death.

Bow fiddled with the hem of his shirt, wondering about the taller dwarf.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Bow jumped as Lord Balin came up behind him. Staring at the ground, he shook his head.

"I don't know," was all he said. Balin raised his eyebrows.

"Not one of the new recruits from your village have had any proper training with a sword yet you manage to defeat my brother." Bow shrugged at Balin's piercing gaze. "One would think you were trained by another with great experience. Was it your father, an uncle maybe?" Bow couldn't see where the older dwarf was going with this and he felt prickly that the conversation was getting way too personal for his liking.

"I do not know." The white beared dwarf gave him a look, seeming almost exasperated with his formal tone.

"Don't know or don't remember?"

Bow stared at him for a few moments before slowly backing away.

"Excuse me Lord Balin, but I must go and practice my archery." It was a bad excuse, but the best he could come up with. They were, after all, training with weapons.

Bow walked away briskly, but not too briskly as too draw unwanted attention to himself in the clearing, being sure to sweep up his bow in the process.

How could he know? How could the old dwarf know he couldn't remember?

**Please review.**


	10. Time

**Note: The cat took over my bed so I decided to write this instead. I anticipate this fanfic is going to be longer than I originally intended. Chapter title's not good, but it was the best I could come up with.**

**Chapter 9 - Time**

Bow decided to avoid Lord Balin as much as he could after that, more than slightly disturbed by the noble's previous questions. But, as the days progressed, the brief incident flew to the back of his mind.

The training increased, becoming more brutal and draining but each recruit proved they could keep up, including Bow and Derain. The latter found he exceled at wielding an axe, and he, and four others, were grouped together for individual training sessions. As the only dwarf in the group who could adequately use a bow though, Bow had to spend those sessions by himself, with nothing but his archery as a distraction from his problems. But it was so easy to lose himself in the way the curved wooden weapon worked.

Lord Dwalin sometimes wandered to where he practiced, giving a few tips here and there on how not to let his guard down, but mostly to watch. Bow was growing exceptionally more comfortable around the larger dwarf each day that past, sometime almost forgetting he was a noble, just as he had when they had crossed swords days before. Even now the older warrior was watching him, leaning against a tree as he did so.

"Might I ask where you learnt to shoot like that?" he asked as Bow sent yet another dozen arrows into the middle bullseye of the target. Bow shrugged.

"I don't exactly remember who taught me. It was a long time ago." That last part may or may not have been a lie, but if it was, it would stop Dwalin from asking any further questions about the matter...hopefully.

"Ah," said the noble, obviously taking the hint. He paused for a while. "Your technique reminds me of someone else's." Bow turned to look at him.

"Who?" Dwalin smiled.

"I don't remember. It was a long time ago." Bow smiled and held up his hands.

"Fair enough. I get your point." The sound of chattering made Dwalin looked over to where the group was starting to pour back into the clearing.

"Looks like you better get over there if you do not want to miss supper."

"Ah," the archer replied mock enthusiastically, "Who in their right mind would want to miss out on that delightful concoction?" A small smile tugged at the corners of Dwalin's mouth.

"It will be your rations for the remainder of the time you serve. Learn to live with it." Bow snorted.

"Unfortunately I already have." With that, Bow trudged wearily back to where the stew was being served. Honestly, you would expect that even this cook would be able to change the menu at least once in a while instead of making the same meal over and over again.

Never the less, it was a hearty stew, one that almost made Bow long for the savoury one Sharn would make on a cold winter's night after a long day at the forges.

"Ten coins says that you can't make it." As always, any personal thoughts around this time were interrupted by the rest of the rowdy recruits.

"Can't make what?" asked Bow. Derain turned to him and smiled knowingly.

"Elion reckons he can land a pebble in the stew pot. I don't. What do you think?" Bow smiled.

"I think you should pray you don't get caught. Durin knows what the cook will do if he catches you." Both Derain and Elion gave him a cocky grin.

"He won't catch us."

A few minutes later the rest of the chatting dwarves were being entertained as the cook chased Derain and Elion around the camp. Lords Balin and Dwalin obviously felt no need to interrupt the proceedings as the three dwarves flew past. Obviously they had experienced various situations like this before.

Later that night, as they were setting up watch and their sleeping spaces, Derain and Elion slouched unrepentant, though somewhat tenderly next to Bow.

"I warned you he would catch you." Derain rolled his eyes.

"Sometimes I think you worry too much. So does the cook. It wasn't like there was anything left in the pot." Bow shook his head.

"I still can't believe he outran you being the scrawny thing that he is." Elion snorted.

"He's no more scrawny than you are. In fact, compared to you, he is practically Dwalin size. Which reminds me," he said, turning to Derain, "You owe me ten coins. Pay up." Derain turned to Bow for help. His friend just laughed in reply.

"That is true. You did state that if he could land a pebble in the pot, you would pay him ten coins." Derain glared at the archer.

"And I thought you were my friend." Bow smirked.

"True, but in seeing what Elion can do with that brute strength of his, I would rather be inclined to take up his side of this argument."

"I will not forget this betrayal," muttered Derain lightly as he counted out the exact amount. No one would ever be able to rip the raven haired dwarf off without his knowing, he watched his money like a hawk.

"Well, you should both get some rest if you want any chance of beating me in hand to hand combat tomorrow. And I know you fight dirty Bow, so I'll be watching your every move."

"I don't doubt it," replied the archer as Elion moved off towards his sleeping sack.

"I suppose we had better turn in too," yawned Derain, "I do not want that poor excuse for a dwarf beating me in tomorrow's training." The dwarf promptly fell asleep straight after, his loud snores deafening Bow's ears and making sleep nigh in impossible.

"If you can't sleep, you might as well take watch." Bow looked up to find Lord Dwalin staring at him.

Extracting himself from between Derain and another generously built dwarf, Bow grabbed his quiver and made his way over to the fire where Dwalin sat.

"Think you can keep an eye on things?" he asked. Bow nodded. "Good. There should be no trouble tonight."

The seasoned warrior made his way over to where his own separate area was set up, leaving Bow alone by the fire.

His nightmares from that day had faded, though they still haunted him every now and then. But it was easier to forget it had ever happened than before. Like with everything, time helped to heal the most grievous of wounds.

**Please review. Thorin and Fili come back into it next chapter, though not much.**


	11. Orders

**Note: Enjoy.**

**Chapter 10 - Orders**

The new recruits blinked in awe at the magnitude of the base camp. Training completed, Lords Dwalin and Balin had marched them into the main encampment for the rest of the company of warriors where obvious preparations to leave were being made.

Stepping into the camp for what was the second time (the first being his volunteering to join the group), Bow felt a shudder run down his spine; whether it was from the cold or something else he didn't know. They were soldiers now, king's soldiers.

"Fili, where is the king?" The golden haired prince bobbed his head towards the tent pitched in the centre of the camp, eyes scanning the ranks of the newcomers, seemingly searching for someone.

"He's in with one of the strategists planning the manoeuvring of the troops. You are welcome to disturb him if you want. I am sure he will make an exception for you, Dwalin." This last part was said in both a warning tone and good humour. Apparently the king was not to be disturbed, not that that would be unusual.

"I think I'll keep my neck safe and wait if it's all the same to you lad, I'm sure he doesn't need me that badly." The prince of Erebor flashed a knowing grin towards the somewhat uncomfortable dwarf as he strode off.

"I wouldn't bet on it." And sure enough, a runner came trembling up to the seasoned warrior, looking scared of his boots.

"The king requests your presence immediately, Lord Dwalin. He is not in a good mood." Bow felt some sympathy towards the messenger after all, the king's reputation proceeded him. He was well-known for his flaring temper and inability to find the slightest thing amusing, and rarely had he been seen to smile, spreading the rumour that the King Under the Mountain was made from stone. Indeed his heart was just about as cold and hard as one, thought Bow.

"Set your packs and belongings over there and prepare to join your units for today's training. I will meet with you towards sundown…if he decides to be nice and let me live." This dark, muttered comment seemed to not be intended for anyone to hear, yet it just reached Bow's ears, the bold warrior flashing a small smile in his direction before walking off towards the tent. This confused Bow as he did not know whether Dwalin had meant for him to hear or not, if he did…it was all too much for Bow's head and he shook himself, walking over to where the rest of the archers were grouped.

"So," said one with a thick scar running down the side of his face, 'You're the new archer." Bow held his head high and kept his gaze level.

"I am." The other dwarf raised his eyebrows.

"I hear Lord Oin recommended you to the king himself. Let's see if you can live up to your reputation. It takes a lot to please the royal healer in the field of archery. Then again, it takes a lot to please me too." Bow looked at the twenty odd dwarves in front of him. They stared back at him. "Well…?" Bow looked at him.

"Well what?" The other dwarves snickered with the exception of the one with the scar.

"Are you going to show us how well you can shoot?" He made to hand him a rather elegant looking bow, carved with the legendary symbol of the line of Durin. It made Bow sick.

"I would prefer to shoot with my own if it's all the same to you." The others grinned, seemingly self-assured that he would fail, obviously taking the battered bow for face value. But it was strong and flexible, and light enough for him to carry around all day, far more lighter than the bows the other dwarves held in their own hands.

"Alright then, see if you can land an arrow in the target. Try to get the bullseye, but if you can't…"

"If you can't what?" asked Bow innocently. The others stared in awe at the three perfect arrows he had placed in the target. The dwarf with the scar turned back to him.

"Well…we can work on your technique." Bow personally thought his technique was just fine.

"Bow, is it?" There were a few stifled gasps as Bow turned around and found himself face to face with the legendary Thorin Oakenshield.

"Yes my king?" he answered sullenly, but respectfully, barely tolerating the king's proximity to him. It would not do well to enrage the harsh leader. The mighty dwarf nodded.

"Take this to Oin the healer. You will find him on the other side, with the other healers." Bow bowed stiffly before walking swiftly over to where the healers were arranging their things on a small cart.

"Lord Oin," he called as he sighted the grey haired dwarf. The healer turned to look at him.

"To you Bow, it's just Oin." The older dwarf made his way over the piles of supplied to stand next to Bow. "Now, what do you want lad?" Bow held out the folded slip of parchment the king had given him.

"The king ordered me to give this to you." Oin raised his eyebrows at the archer as he unfolded the note.

"The king huh?" Bow nodded in answer to the dwarf's question. He watched as the healer's lips moved as he read the scrawled writing across the parchment. Looking up, he smiled.

"It would seem you are to accompany us as we make our way towards the village for the next few days until you are relived. We set off with the first group in a few minutes."

"I will get my things."

Though he was more than slightly confused by his orders, Bow was not stupid enough to question them aloud. Besides, being stuck with Oin, as he preferred to be called, was not so bad. Like Lord Dwalin, Bow respected the noble's occupation and way with his patients, if not the actual dwarf himself.

Giving a brief wave to Derain, Bow walked back over to where the others were making the final preparations for the journey.

"Need help with anything?" Oin waved him away.

"No, we are all good." He looked up. "Will you ride with the cart or walk?"

"Walk," was the immediate reply. Oin flashed him a smile.

"Very well then, but make sure you can keep up." Bow did not return the smile. He was a noble after all.

**Please review. **


	12. Memories

**Note:**

**Contrary to what you believe the chapter title implies, BOW DOES NOT REMEMBER WHO HE IS JUST YET.**

**Just remember that Sharn and Bow's son was named after Sharn's brother, so the Arón that appears in this chapter is actually her brother. I also forgot to mention in my previous notes that the events that have occurred over the last few chapters are spread out over a period of time (around a month or two). Thanks for your reviews. I am happy that you are enjoying this so far.**

**Artemis Faery - Noted.**

**Chapter 11 - Memories**

Oin chatted away to one of the healers as Bow walked by the side of the cart. Around a dozen other soldiers had also been chosen for the task, all more vastly experienced than he. They also did not seem to bear the same level of tension as Bow did; they talked, he watched and listened. Of course each sound that made him alert proved to be nothing more than the birds chirping in the trees. But you never could be too careful…

_"What was that?" Bow turned to face the source of the rustling._

_"I am sure it is nothing…" Bow hoped that Arón was right. Sharn did not look so convinced._

_"What of the raids that have been occurring around this area in the past few days?" Her brother patted her on the arm._

_"Do not worry. The orc scum will not dare to set foot near this village. We are armed after all. Am I right Bow?" Bow nodded his agreement with Arón._

_"He is right Sharn, it is probably just a rabbit or something." Sharn did not looked relieved, if anything she looked more nervous than before. "Look, I'll check it out if you want." Sharn nodded her assent and Bow slowly made his way towards the bushes. Pushing back the leaves, he stepped aside and smiled, revealing the small squirrel that was gnawing away on some type of nut. "See, nothing to worry about." Arón gave a short laugh._

_"Becoming a bit paranoid sister?" he asked in jest. Sharn bristled in indignation. The dwarf's act did not fool Bow though; he could tell that Arón was more than slightly concerned about the wellbeing of his sister._

_Another sound broke through the air, putting an abrupt end to the siblings' squabbling. Another branch snapped and Bow tightened the grip on his strung bow. Beside him, Arón did the same to the short, crude sword he bore. Bow could only pray that the lessons he had spent teaching the young dwarf would prove to be enough if the danger proved to be more than just a squirrel._

_The sharp disturbances in the air grew closer coupled with faint screams, and just over the horizon Bow sighted an reddish glow._

_"I think we should run." Arón responded to this by grabbing Sharn's hand and shoving it into Bow's._

_"Take her and find a place to hide. I will come and find you." More rustling provoked Bow to shake his head._

_"There is not enough time and you alone cannot hold them off." Arón fixed him with a look._

_"I agree there is not much time, so do as I say and stop arguing." Bow made to talk back but was interrupted._

_As a twig snapped not ten feet away from them, the two male dwarves boosted Sharn up into a tree. Bow soon followed and reached back a hand to help give Arón a lift. The older dwarf refused to take it though, and he sent a meaningful glance in Bow's direction before stepping back and away from the tree._

_Straightening his shoulders, the dwarf turned to face the entrance to the clearing as the first of the enemies crashed through the trees._

"K…Bow." The archer jumped slightly and turned to find Oin was now striding side by side with him.

"Yes…?" he began, wary as to what the noble wanted with him. Oin gave him a concerned look.

"You seem to be brooding." Bow nodded, supposing that he had, in fact, been brooding. "May I ask what it is you are brooding about?"

For a moment Bow thought about not replying but then thought about it. He need not tell what it was that was actually occupying his mind, after all, the healer had treated him after the fire several months before.

"I was just thinking about Sharn and Arón."

"Ah," the older dwarf paused for a bit, "Was Arón the name of your son?" Bow nodded. He didn't have to lie, just bend the truth a bit, after all Arón had been his son's name. "It's a good, strong name. Suitable for any son." Bow did not need the noble to tell him this, but he remained polite. It was best not to get on his superior's bad side.

"I chose it myself." Oin nodded his approval.

"A good choice by you then. May I ask what he looked like?" If Bow didn't know better, the healer seemed to be trying to establish some sort of relationship with him other than that present between an officer and a soldier.

"He looked like me I suppose, but with his mother's build and chin. He had her smile too."

The memory of his family filled Bow's head and he smiled inwardly. It was a memory filled with warmth and happiness; wife and child laughing as he came home to greet them.

"She must have been beautiful." She had been. More beautiful than any dwarf woman to be found in the village and the surrounding area in any case.

"That she was." Oin bobbed his head again, brow furrowing in thought.

"It must have been hard to lose them," Bow looked up in surprise as Oin continued, "Brought back other, equally painful memories."

"May I ask where you are going with this?" Bow said bluntly. Oin gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sometimes it is best if you talk about your problems with others." Bow could not believe the dwarf's nerve.

"I will talk about my _problems_ with people I actually _know_ if it is all the same to you."

Leaving his sharp retort ringing in the noble's ears, Bow stormed ahead of the column, keeping an eye out for any disturbances. The loneliness only served to stir his mind to darker thoughts however, and Bow found himself again dwelling on Sharn's brother.

Arón had survived the brief but brutal fight in the clearing, though he had been wounded severely enough for him to be required to lean on his sister and Bow for support as they had made their way back to the ignited village. The horror of that day had not ended there though, and it was the events that had occurred immediately after that had sparked Bow's hatred towards the king, his line, and all nobles, no matter how much they were not to be blamed.

**Please review. **


	13. Distracted

**Note:**

**Sorry for the bad chapter but I was again stuck for what to write.**

**I know where the story is going, but right now ideas are coming more slowly to me than usual, so if there is anything you want me to include/you want to see (excluding the big things, such as him remembering, Sharn's brother/why he hates nobles-anything else to do with nobles is fine-, or one of the company openly confronting him) now's the time to suggest them. Not all may be used though.**

**Chapter 12- Distracted**

Hours of nonstop trudging wore one down, as did thoughts that lingered on the darker side of existence. Bow powered on though; he was not one to give in because of the hardships he faced.

Oin's nerve had made him begin to fume. Really, how could he ask him such a question? There was a barrier between friendly concern and getting too personal, and for Bow, Oin had crossed that barrier. Contrary to what the healer believed, there were some things best left unsaid and kept to one's self, his past problems included, especially the problems he was still dealing with.

It didn't matter what he thought of the noble though, so long as he did what was required of him. But he could avoid the healer for the remainder of the journey the exact same way he was avoiding Lord Balin. In the archer's eyes, the two dwarves had about as much tact as each other, though Oin slightly more so. Why be concerned with what_ he_ remembered past five years ago, if that was indeed what Oin had been trying to get at. It wasn't as if it would affect them in any way.

The group paused for a short break, Bow hanging on the outskirts as he watched for any signs of danger. That day with Arón had taught him well and, coupled with instinct, it would prove to be a valuable resource while he served as a soldier in the army. That didn't mean he was always on his guard though. A distracted head led to him being distracted while searching for signs of danger, a mistake, Bow realised, that he had made whilst allowing his mind to be filled with thoughts other than what was going on around him. And mistakes on that level led to deaths. Even the youngest child knew that. They had it drilled into them at a very young age.

When they started up again, Bow had clear his mind of any thought that had tried to invade it, instead focussing on his mission at hand. It was not long now until they reached the point where he and the other soldiers would swap duties with several others. Provided it wasn't Derain who he would be changing shifts with, he would most likely be reunited with his friend, something he could use at the moment.

Bow shook himself as his mind wandered off track again, before giving up. If he was going to be distracted, it might as well be now than when he was in battle, fighting for his life. Now there was only a small chance he could die.

"You there, scout ahead for a while and then report back." Bow snapped out of his daze, nodded to his superior and set off, picking up his dawdling pace to a brisk walk.

Now he was on alert; being alone in a dense and unfamiliar forest tended to do that to you. Every shadow seemed to pose some sort of threat and every gnarled tree branch host an enemy archer. This was not the case however, and after a while Bow's brain began to relax and pick up the things that were really out of place; three large stones positioned in a small clearing off to one side of the track. A closer inspection proved that the stones were even stranger, but did not present any danger.

Taking a step back, Bow looked at the stones from several different angles. It couldn't be…the stones looked like they were life sized trolls. How strange. Who would carve a life sized statue of a troll, three of them to be exact?

The archer got a feeling that something important had taken place here. He didn't know why he had the feeling; it must have been something Derain had said. The raven haired dwarf was sometimes obsessed with stories and major events that occurred throughout history. That didn't mean Bow was as equally intrigued; why would he be when he hardly remembered his own history? Never the less, his friend must have mentioned something that had somehow found a way to become stuck inside his head.

Bow mentally slapped himself. He was becoming side tracked again. He had a task and now he needed to complete it.

He began his inspection of the surrounding again, focusing on objects other than the three statues. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, in fact, everything seemed in order which made the nagging voice at the back of Bow's mind pointless and annoying. It wasn't like he could understand what it was saying anyway; it was far too muffled for that.

Making his way back to the rest of the group, Bow evaluated his findings in his head and found them to be satisfactory. He had, after all, done a thorough search of the immediate surrounding area and a few lengths ahead in any direction they could take from the front.

"Nothing to report," he said to the lead soldier, "Though you may want to stay away from the west path. It looks to be if something is currently occupying it or has in recent times." It was a complete guess, but better safe than sorry. The head soldier nodded.

"Alright," he replied before yelling louder, "Push on. We have yet a few more hours before sundown."

As the column walked forward, Bow found himself towards the back, somewhat closer to Oin than he felt comfortable. To his relief, the old healer did not make his way over to him, rather was engaged in a conversation between him and another healer. He decided to engage in a conversation with one of the younger soldiers.

"What do you think of Lord Oin?" The strawberry blonde dwarf looked at him.

"I think he is an excellent healer and a hero to our people for winning back Erebor." Wasn't that what they would all say if asked?

"Okay then…" Bow trailed off, not knowing the dwarf's name.

"Call me Merlyn." Bow smiled. The dwarf reminded him a of Derain when they had first met.

"Alright then Merlyn, how long have been serving the king for?" The shorter dwarf thought about this for a moment before answering.

"Two, three years. I have witnessed him perform a lot of feats in that time." The dwarf looked at the archer. "You're a new recruit aren't you Bow. Bow is your name right?" He shot the said dwarf a questioning glance.

"Right on both counts." Merlyn raised his eyebrows.

"May I ask why your name is Bow? I find it an intriguing choice considering your preferred weapon." He gestured towards Bow's quiver as he said this.

"It suited me." Bow didn't know if he could get any more vague, but the other dwarf seemed to buy it.

"Well, we had better get back to at least looking like we are doing what we are supposed to be doing or old misery guts will have our heads." Bow almost snorted. Old misery guts indeed; an accurate description of the head soldier in the group. Arón would've had something to say about that.

Arón…

Two dwarves, two deaths; it was like the name was cursed. Or maybe it was just him, after all, losing things seemed to be the main attraction in his life. Not that he knew how to change it. Sometimes life was cruel just for the sake of it.

**Please review. **


	14. Fight

**Note:**

**Bad chapter (again, sorry but I sort of needed to establish a relationship between Bow and Oin for one of my upcoming chapters otherwise it would've made much sense). Next one will be better, I promise, so bear with me. **

**Cyphercat - thanks. You have again given me a great idea (or several). I should be good for now.**

**Chapter 13 - Fight**

A few more uneventful days of tramping alongside the cart could drive anyone insane. Thank Durin they were changing groups tomorrow for Bow thought he could not last another moment of boredom…or of Merlyn talking.

The archer was swiftly beginning to regret ever speaking to Merlyn; the soldier had been non-stop chattering in his ear ever since dawn. What was more was that he seemed to hold the nobles in some sort of light. That annoyed Bow above all else. Could the thick dwarf not see that they were flawed, the king most of all?

Of course Bow had been in a bad mood for most of the morning, his grief at his still recent loss returning as he woke from a nightmare involving a burning building and his late wife and son. That coupled with the fact that he had caught Oin shooting him some rather conspicuous glances was enough to make his frustrations barely controllable.

"…personally I don't see why you use a bow if you can use a sword. From what I heard, you are perfectly cable in wielding one, even defeating Lord Dwalin. In fact you are the only for ages to actually defeat him, and a new recruit at that too. Just goes to show," Merlyn paused for a moment to catch his breath before starting up again, "So why do you use bow? It is not as reliable as a sword; you can run out of arrows. It is also useless in close combat. But I suppose if you want to take out enemy sentries on the sly it is more usable than a sword or axe, though I think that if…"

It wasn't that Merlyn had insulted Bow, rather that Bow had had enough of him talking. He just wanted some quite so he could brood in peace.

"…and I suppose while a bow is more flexible, a sword is more sturdy meaning it has less chance to break in combat, though if you account for the fact that…"

"Shut up." The brief but blunt statement temporarily halted the stream of words that Merlyn had been spurting out.

"Sorry," he spluttered, "What did you say?" Obviously no one had been straightforward with the strawberry-blonde dwarf before and Bow could see why. The dwarf looked like he had a permanent scowl across his face, bushy eyebrows hiding his energetic eyes. He was fairly tall, though not as tall as Bow and certainly not as tall as Lord Dwalin. His chest was broad and body generously proportioned; most of it muscle not fat. While Bow was angry, he was not stupid and he did not want to fight this dwarf. So he swallowed his frustrations instead.

'You heard him. Shut up." Another soldier, sensing that something was brewing, had inserted himself into the situation to stir up the pot. Merlyn turned to face Bow.

"I only said it because I need time to think and you are doing my head in," the archer said lightly, flashing his most winning smile. He breathed a sigh of relief as Merlyn brought it. The other dwarf, however, did not.

"You're letting him off because of that?" he exclaimed in disbelief, "Honestly, that was the worst excuse I have ever heard." Bow groaned inwardly. He really was not in the mood to fight, earlier anger aside. This guy was almost as big as Merlyn in any case.

"And why shouldn't I? If I talk too much, than I talk too much," he paused, "You, on the other hand, should keep your nose out of things that don't concern you."

"You know any disagreements in the company concern me." Merlyn snorted and Bow felt a growing apprehension. He had never really liked fighting; his earliest memory had made sure of that, meaning he knew full well the consequences of going head on head with someone. Besides, he liked to attack more stealthily; it was one of the reasons he preferred a bow after all.

"You make it your business for it to concern you and you try to make it end in a fight and I have no wish to fight Bow." Now it was the other dwarf's turn to snort.

"I am not sure I believe that, after all, he did tell you to shut up."

Bow turned to see the lead soldier making his way towards the bickering pair, gait fierce and determined. Bow turned back to the two.

"Break it up you two." But they ignored him. Instead, they got more heated, attracting attention from others and causing their superior to quicken his pace.

Merlyn slowly grew red in the face as the other dwarf continued to throw insults at him, Bow trying desperately to break them up. When reasoning did not work, he attempted to drag Merlyn away, a feat that evaded him due to the other dwarf's huge size.

It was when the other dwarf threw a fist that things took a turn for the worse. Merlyn ducked the blow, but Bow did not see it coming. As it was, Bow's ears were ringing for quite a while.

"Lucky you rolled with the blow or it could have been worse." Bow merely grunted. Merlyn had been the one to get him into this mess in the first place and too be frank, the dwarf still annoyed him.

"I find no permanent damage has been sustained." Bow nodded his thanks to Oin. He was a respectable healer after all.

"Our superior will probably have our heads for this." Bow shrugged at Merlyn's comment.

"Speak for yourself, you are the one that was arguing. I just happened to get in the way." A light cough sounded from beside them and they looked over. The soldier in charge motioned for Merlyn to come over. The large dwarf reluctantly walked over. The other dwarf was already there, a murderous look etched upon his face.

"Ah laddie, I would not want to be on the receiving end of his rage." Bow inwardly cringed. Just what he needed; another thing to worry about. "Alright, I just need to do some final checks."

"Okay." Bow's mind was still preoccupied with the healer's last comment.

"You're ears aren't ringing at all?" Bow shook his head.

"No." Oin nodded.

"And your vision is not blurry?"

"I can see perfectly fine." The grey bearded dwarf kept up the bobbing of his head.

"And you have no memory lose at all?" This put Bow on guard. He hesitated for a second.

"No memory loss." Oin eyed him carefully.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Bow said perhaps a little too quickly. The conversation was quickly becoming uncomfortable again. The archer waited for Oin's next question.

"Well," he laughed, startling Bow, "You seem fine so you may go." Again Bow nodded his thanks.

Standing to leave, the dark haired dwarf began to reach for his bow and quiver.

"Bow." The archer turned back to the noble.

"Yes…?" he asked, wary of what the healer intended.

"Do know my offer for you to talk to me still stands." Bow stared at him for a moment before moving again.

"I seriously doubt I will take it."

**I am thankful I am out of that hole. Like I said before, next chapter will be better. Please review. **


	15. Nightmare

**Note:**

**I hope this makes up for the recent bad chapters (again, sorry). Enjoy.**

**Chapter 14 - Nightmare**

Bow breathed a sigh of relief as he was reunited with the main group. He was not sure his mental state would have been much intact if he had lingered for any longer with the medical group; between Merlyn, Oin, the return of the nightmares and being punched in the head, Bow was surprised he still had any shred of sanity left.

"Durin's beard! What happened to your face?" Bow grimaced.

"Nice to see you to Derain," he paused, "And let's just say I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"On the other side of a fist I heard." Bow shrugged.

"I suppose you could say that." Derain inspected his friend closely.

"How much sleep have you been getting?" Bow looked over the top of the green eyed dwarf's head.

"Enough." Derain maintained his concerned look.

"They've come back haven't they." Bow looked down.

"Look, it's nothing I can't deal with. You should just concentrate on yourself."

"I've always said you were to stubborn for your own good." Bow flashed his friend a small smile before resigning himself to eating the unappealing stew the cook had whipped up. If he didn't know better, he would say it was poisoned.

The pair sat in silence for a while as they ate, spoons scrapping against the sides of their bowls.

"Bow, Derain, you two are on first watch. Wake Elion and Rowen for the next shift." Both dwarves nodded to Lord Dwalin, showing that they had heard him. They stood up to stretch their legs.

"Is this what you thought it would be?" Derain looked at the taller dwarf then nodded, eyes focussing on a distant point as he thought.

"I suppose so. It certainly is a lot more…physical than I expected." Bow raised his eyebrows.

"And I'm sure you didn't expect it to be a walk in the park at all." Derain blushed slightly.

"Maybe a little," he admitted.

They inspected the perimeter of the camp site before settling on either side of the fire, keeping a watchful eye on the shadows.

"Lord Dwalin spoke to me." Bow looked up in surprise.

"Huh. What did he speak to you about?" Derain frowned and looked at the ground.

"He just…asked me to do something for him. It's ridiculous, but what can you do?" It was not like his friend to be so discrete; usually he was forthcoming with saying whatever was on his mind.

"And what is that ridiculous something?" Bow watched as Derain shifted nervously.

"He just wanted me to keep an eye on something for him." Bow's curiosity was aroused by this but he did not press the matter, rathe just let the awkwardness between them stemming from the conversation flow into a slightly more relaxed silence. They surveyed their respective sides, buried deep in the thoughts of whatever occupied each of their minds. Soon it was time to wake the next pair and drift off to sleep themselves.

Bow laid on the hard ground, trying to fall asleep. Not that he particularly wanted to lest the nightmares came again. Never the less, he was soon asleep and dreaming, the more than boring conversation between the two dwarves now on watch making him nod off fairly quick.

_The dark haired dwarf ambled aimlessly through the trees that surrounded him on all sides. It was peaceful setting, the trees leaves turning the golds, oranges and reds of autumn; Bow's favourite time of year. A breeze stirred past and several leaves broke free from the branches holding them captive. The floated down in an array of fiery colour, enchanting Bow._

_Slowly the leaves changed form, growing smaller and glowing brighter as they sifted into fierce sparks from the forges. The heat was intense and it hit Bow's face full force, making him stumble for a moment before regaining his footing. The archer looked around, watching as dwarves of all shapes and sizes manipulated metal of all kinds._

_"You there, man the bellows," a rather heavily built dwarf shouted at him and Bow grabbed up a set and started to blow air onto the smouldering coals in the furnaces._

_The fire grew both hotter and in size, soon encircling Bow. Two shapes began to form, one smaller and more delicate than the other. Both were squirming in an attempt to avoid the flames, completely cut off from his and each other._

_"Bow!" Sharn screamed at the top of her voice, "Save us!" Her hands reached out from the flames._

_"Papa, help me." His son too begged with all he had, face twisting in agony as the fire took a hold of him, climbing its way up his body. He screamed as his face burst into the flames that then latched themselves onto Sharn, seemingly eating her from the feet up. Her face too burst into flame before forming the fiery image of a whole village set alight._

_"You failed me Bow. I told you to look after her." The sturdily built dwarf looked down on the archer who was now caught in the middle of the flames himself._

_"Please, Arón, you have to believe I did everything I could." The dwarf appeared like a giant, at least ten times the size he actually was._

_"Well, it wasn't enough."_

_It wasn't enough._

_The words echoed around Bow's head. _He_ hadn't been enough. He had failed them, all three of them._

Bow woke with a start. Tonight it was blatantly obvious; he wasn't going to get any sleep without enduring the torments his mind was putting him through.

Briefly the archer considered waking his friend but decided against it. Derain would need all the sleep he could get, for they had a fair way to march yet. And while Bow justified his decision, he was more than reluctant to deal with things on his own. Perhaps it was time he shared his worries with someone.

**Please review. There will be more interactions with certain members of the company next chapter.**


	16. Ambush

**Note: I hope you like this chapter. **

**Chapter 15 - Ambush**

Bow sat by himself, away from the roaring campfire that the others were gathered at. They were about several day's walk from the outlying village that had been most recently raided. From the talk their company had picked up, it seemed to be the same group of orcs committing the various raids.

Staring into space Bow tried to remember the faces of his family, his childhood, anything that had happened more than five years ago but he found nothing. The closet he got to remembering his past was the image of the battlefield he had woken up on and the lonely mountain that had overshadowed it. He dwelt on the horrific awe of the dawn he had seen that day, unable to go further back into the past, but unwilling to come back to the present. It had been several months since the fire; one since Lord Balin had confronted him about his lack of memory.

It was times like this Bow wished he couldn't remember; it was as if was he was torn between the pain the memories induced and guilt he felt at trying to forget.

That was not to say he had forgotten. No, each night for the past few nights, he had woken, gasping for breath as he watched their faces burn to nothing, over and over. He needed to talk to someone, anyone (with a few exceptions).

Derain was out of the question; Bow did not want to bother his friend. He already had weighed him down with so much and to be truthful, losing Derain's friendship would probably destroy him. Elion was too naïve to the problems that the archer faced (being among the youngest of the recruits) and Bow didn't really know him all that well. There was Dwalin, but Bow didn't really see him as the type that would want to talk about such problems. That left him one option, even though it would go against what he had previously said. A touch on his shoulder jolted him from his stupor.

Looking to his left, he found the concerned eyes of Oin looking at him. Bow sighed inwardly. The two separate groups had joined up again meaning that he was again back to avoiding the healer. But this time he was not going to try and come up with an awkward excuse to get away.

"What are you dwelling on laddie?" the grey beared dwarf asked. Bow rubbed the fine hairs of his beard. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea…but Bow had no inkling of who else he could talk to.

"Memories," he said, "Or rather, lack of them." Bow decided that he would have to trust Oin enough to tell him; the dwarf was a respectable healer after all, which meant he would most likely not take advantage or claim any leverage over Bow, no matter what he told him. Oin looked at him with a strange expression on his face.

"What memories are you lacking?" he asked cautiously. Bow opened his mouth to answer, then thought that he had better check something.

"Does your offer still stand? You know, about me talking about my…problems?" Oin smiled at him.

"Of course it does," he said somewhat warmly, "And I know it must be hard for you, but still…" He trailed off before picking up again. "What is it you wish to talk about? What is this lack of memories?" Bow looked at his hands.

"It sort of isn't just about a lack of memories." Realisation dawned on Oin's face.

"The fire? Sharn and Arón?" Both Aróns.

"The trouble is sometimes I want to forget about it, them, but I feel as if it would be an insult to them." Oin grimaced.

"That is what is hardest about being left behind; the fact that you want to move on, to push the event to the back of your mind but you feel afraid to," The old healer spoke as if he himself had experienced it, "But what can you do? It is not like you will wake up one day and find them there, right in front of you." At this point, Bow was not sure if the dwarf was talking to him or just thinking aloud.

The archer coughed discretely.

"Ah," said the healer as he turned to face Bow again, "I am sorry but I got caught up in my thoughts." Curious. "Now, from what you said before, you were also suffering from lack of memory. May I ask what it is you do not remember?"

"Everything up to five years ago. Childhood, parents…everything." Oin sighed sadly, but his eyes betrayed the fact that his thoughts were now running at an incredible speed.

"Aye, that must be one large burden you have been bearing and coupled with the fire…" He trailed off and the two dwarves sat in silence, staring out into the darkness. Bow didn't want to talk about it anymore, but he did want to talk about something else, something that had been bugging him since he had first seen Oin after the fire.

"Can I ask you a question?" Oin turned to Bow, smiling. The look in his eyes had not calmed.

"You just did, but go on." He sat there waiting as Bow summoned up his courage.

"Why did you heal me?" the young dwarf asked, "What was the real reason?"

"Uh…" The healer shifted, obviously uncomfortable, but Bow didn't want any more mystery in his life.

"Please tell me," he begged, "I can't bear not knowing something else." Oin looked at the youngster's tortured eyes and relented, seeing the eyes of another in their place.

"You reminded me…of…someone I…once…knew," he began slowly before pausing briefly, obviously unsure of how far he was willing to delve into his reasons, "Besides, Fili specifically asked me to look over you." Bow raised his eyebrows.

"The crowned prince of Erober," he said sceptically. Oin was about to answer when Bow held up a hand. Drawing an arrow from his quiver he stood and looked towards the bushes.

"What is it?" asked Oin. Bow shushed him and paused again, listening.

He could hear the others questioning him and Oin and he ignored them. He heard the rustling noise again.

Moving slowly towards the bushes, he drew back his bow. Taking a deep breath, he opened them and saw nothing. The others laughed at him with the exceptions of Oin and Derain. The two dwarves were staring at him, looks concerned and confused.

"Seeing things Bow?" gasped Elion. The archer turned around and his eyes widened. The arrow was flying from his bow before the others could register what was happening. Everyone was silent as the orc behind Elion crumpled slowly to the ground, an arrow protruding from its eye.

"Ambush!" The yell belonged to none other than Thorin Oakensheild as he drew his sword, slaying another orc that had crept in. Everyone started moving as the rest of the orcs ran into the clearing wielding swords, maces and several bows. Bow let his instincts take over, praying that he knew enough to keep himself alive. Though he might miss his family, and he was missing more than half his memories, Bow had no intention of dying, especially not at the hands of an orc.

**Please review (my thanks to those who are constantly doing so). **


	17. Combat

**Note: **

**I know some of you want him to remember, but he doesn't just yet (it's a little while on so bear with me and keep reading). You should like next chapter though; while he doesn't remember…sorry, but I don't want to give anything away, but you should enjoy it (expect a major confrontation), and hopefully this one as well.**

**Chapter 16 - Combat**

Their camp was flooded with orcs .

The fighting around him intensified and he found himself back to back with the golden haired prince. The heir to the throne fought with his iconic duel swords, his skill with a blade far outmatching even the king's. The prince was calculating in every blow he struck, a precise rhythm flowing to his moves. Every time he lifted his blade, it sounded another gong of death for the enemy.

Bow fought just as well, his knowledge of where to strike coming from somewhere within his mind he didn't know; a place that was frustratingly closed off to him. The archer's attacks seemed random as he sliced at his enemies with whatever he had in his hands; bow, sword, knife or arrow. It was the complete opposite of the orthodox style the prince fought in but seemed to work just as well. And, if studied closely, it would seem the dwarf was dancing an elaborate, graceful and extremely deadly dance. It was as if he had faced combat before, in another place and another time.

Though he had several arrows left in his quiver, Bow had switched to a sword long ago as the orcs were at too close a range for him to shoot. The other archers had done the same, having run out of arrows due to several misses. They did not possess Bow's skill with the same weapons.

The dwarf looked over and saw Derain struggling to hold off two orcs at the same time, both bigger than even Lord Dwalin. Fighting his way over the short distance, the archer felt the wind whistle past his face as he narrowly avoided being speared by a javelin. Pulling off one of the orcs atop of his friend, Bow proceeded to slice the throat of the second. Offering his hand out, the young dwarf pulled up his friend and checked him over for any injuries. Derain waved him off, saying he was fine. Looking around, Bow saw that there were only ten or so left and the other soldiers were making quick work of them. Everything seemed under control. Of course, another, larger round of orcs joined the fray as soon as Bow thought this. And they were on wargs.

"Bunch together! Protect the king!" roared Dwalin as the dwarves turned to face the newcomers. As Bow and Derain ran past, the large warrior pulled the latter aside, grunting out a few words before pushing him back into place next to Bow, a meaningful glance sent after the suddenly serious looking dwarf. Bow resolved to ask his friend what that was about later, if he would tell him.

Luckily only a small amount of the dwarfish soldiers had been killed, but many more had been injured enough to put them out of battle. There were more than enough still left standing to more than adequately take out the new threat though.

Derain lifted his sword on the other side of Bow as they surrounded their leader in a protective ring. Something didn't feel right though, and Bow instinctively looked up, scanning the trees.

The orcs circled them, waiting for some sort of single. There was rustle from ahead and an arrow shot overhead before burring itself in the chest of the dwarf on Bow's right. The warrior fell backwards slowly, his eyes glazed over. There was a brief pause before the orcs yelled and kicked their mounts towards the group. With a yell, the dwarves meet them head on.

Half the enemy was cut down during the head on collision but then orc archers started firing at them from the tree tops. Thorin Oakenshield grabbed Bow by the shoulder and pulled him away from the warg he was currently attacking. Braining the creature Thorin turned to face the bowman closest to him.

"Shoot them," he growled, gesturing at the trees. The younger dwarf nodded and stood back, replacing his sword and drawing his bow. He had to nail each and every shot. From what he could tell, there were four enemy archers and he only had four arrows left. One for each of them.

Pulling the string back, the archer aimed at the trees and let lose the arrow. An orc fell from the branches. A screaming orc, looking half out of its mind, came charging towards him, something inside recognising the threat. It was stopped in mid path by none other than Derain, a fact that Bow was more than grateful for. Right now, there was no one he would rather have fighting by his side.

Three more times Bow drew back the string and three more times an orc fell from the branches. The rest of the orcs and wargs lay on the ground, dead; only a few remaining that were swiftly dealt with.

Looking around Bow set eyes on his friend only a few paces from him. Seeing Derain, he walked over.

"Hey," he said, "You fought well." Derain gave him a half-hearted smile.

"As did you. I didn't even know you could shoot that well." Bow grinned.

"Well, I would be dead if you hadn't killed that crazy orc and a few others beside." Bow's friend looked past the archer.

"You don't know the half of it," he brightened, "But you're welcome."

Bow was about to reply when Derain grimaced in pain, grabbing his arm. Bow looked at him in concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, hands moving over his friend, "Are you hurt?" Derain lifted his own hand to reveal a deep incision in his arm.

"It's just a scratch." Bow shook his head.

"It's deep. Sit down and I will get Oin." He was the only healer that Bow trusted to take care of his friend; he didn't know the others, but heard that most were nobles. Oin was a noble, but just before the battle…well how could he not trust the dwarf after spilling what were probably some of his darkest secrets to him?

Moving towards where the healer was tending several wounds of Dwalin's, Bow passed where the king and Lord Balin were talking quietly but fiercely.

"You saw the way he fought! He is a mirror image."

"That doesn't mean anything," the king growled. Lord Balin shook his head, frowning.

"Look at his eyes, they are exactly the same!" Thorin Oakenshield tried to interrupt but was cut off by his advisor. "And he doesn't remember anything up until five years ago, the same time you know _he_ disappeared." The king's frown deepened.

"How do you know this?" he asked.

"Oin told me just now and Bow _himself_ told Oin." The archer froze in place. They had been talking about him. What was more, Oin had told Lord Balin what he had told Oin. Bow knew there was reason why he didn't trust nobles.

"Bow?" The young dwarf snapped out of his shock at the sound of Lord Balin's voice.

"I…I was j…just getting Oin for D…Derain…" He trailed of at the looks the two dwarves gave him; one filled with pity and regret, and the other filled with anger and a strange, hopeful longing.

The king growled something unintelligible at the older dwarf and then walked off, leaving the two dwarves alone.

"Derain…" Bow began, but Lord Balin waved a hand, stopping him from continuing.

"The others will look after him." The white haired dwarf gave him a long stare. "I think you and I need to have a talk."

**Please review, they are much appreciated. **


	18. Confrontation

**Note: **

**This is definitely taking longer than I expected. Not many chapters until he remembers now (I think-I could be wrong).**

**Chapter 17 - Confrontation**

"Sit down." Bow looked at Lord Balin.

"If it's all the same to you, I would rather stand." Now that he had gotten over his initial shock, he was angry that they had talked about him behind his back. That they seemed to know something about his past but wasn't telling him. That Oin had told them that he didn't remember anything past five years ago._ That_ was private, or at least it had been until Oin had blabbed it.

"It wasn't a suggestion," the noble said.

"I know that." The white haired dwarf raised his eyebrows before shaking his head.

"What?" Bow demanded, glaring at him. He really wasn't in the mood for games. If not for the fact that the dwarf in front of him was one of the highest nobles in Erebor, Bow would let his anger get the better of him and storm away or worse. A good, strong punch to the head might relieve Bow's feelings a bit.

"You remind me of him," Lord Balin answered, his gaze far off before snapping back to the present. He stared a Bow. Bow glared back.

"Do you know what happened in the battle for Erober?" he asked. Bow shook his head.

"I don't remember anything…"

"Before five years ago," finished Lord Balin, "Yes I know. Oin told me." Oin. Bow's blood simmered.

"Don't be angry with him," the old dwarf said, seeing the young dwarf's look, "He was concerned and, to be truthful, slightly hopeful." The archer looked at him, confused. "You see," explained the noble, "Thorin had two nephews, two heirs who were brothers who shared one of the strongest brotherly bonds I had ever seen in all my years." Lord Balin paused, and if Bow didn't know better, he could have sworn he heard the dwarf's voice catch. "In the battle against the goblins," the noble continued, "The younger of the two was lost, leaving Thorin with only Fili." Bow stared at him in shock, anger forgotten for now.

"That's terrible," he said, knowing firsthand what it was like to lose someone to a hated enemy in the heat of battle; or something close to it anyway. Lord Balin nodded his head in agreement to his statement.

"And what is worse is they never found anything, no body, nothing. Nothing to give any sense of closure to his uncle, brother or those who were closet to him." Bow thought this over, feeling at least a small amount of sympathy for the situation. He might have lost his family, but at least he knew what had happened to them, no matter how terrible that knowing was. It was what gave him some sort of sense of closure. But then again, no body might mean something entirely different.

"But that could also mean he could still be alive, somewhere other than Erober." The king's advisor nodded again, mulling over his own thought pattern.

"My thoughts exactly", he agreed, "Oin and Dwalin also share them to some extent and Fili is…hopeful at best. Thorin would take some more convincing though, for I fear he has long buried any hope of finding his nephew alive after so long. At first he sent out massive search parties, but every day that went by without results seemed to have somewhat broken his resolute." He paused for a bit before asking a question that made the blood flowing in Bow's veins freeze. "What is the earliest memory you have?" The archer made to move, but the older dwarf grabbed his arm. "Tell me." Something about the seriousness in Lord Balin's voice made Bow give in and sit down.

"Waking up…" he said hesitantly, wondering why the noble wanted to know, "Waking up on a bloodstained battlefield." The advisor nodded encouragingly, seemingly pleased with the answer.

"What did you see?" Bow took a deep breath before answering the question. That memory had never really left him; awakening to that was probably one of the worst ways to find out you had lost your memory. He had spent weeks trying to recall if someone important to him had also fought in the battle, but soon just let it be. After a while he had just thought he obviously wasn't entitled to remember the faces of those who had fought with him (for he knew that much; how else could you explain the place where he had regained consciousness?) so he might as well start a new life wit new faces. Faces he actually remembered.

Shaking himself, Bow went back to the original question and opened his mouth to answer.

"I saw…a lot of things. A lot of dead corpses and…and a mountain towering above everything. I saw a bow with a broken string," he smiled quietly to himself, "That's how I chose my name. The bow just seemed to be a part of me." He paused for a bit. "You know, sometimes I figure our life, the essence of who we are, is held together by a single string. And my string snapped. It's broken. Even more now than before." The young dwarf found himself spilling everything out to the kindly, strangely comforting face of Balin, tears beginning to trickle down his face.

He looked away, unable to talk further. He had few memories, all belonging to recent years, and now those memories were tainted with an evil darkness. Balin sat down with him, both dwarves keeping silent as Bow regained control of his emotions.

"Why do you want to know?" The old dwarf took a while before answering, as if he was ensuring Bow was ready to hear some breaking news that could knock his very feet out from under him. What Balin didn't know was that Bow's feet had already been knocked out from under him a while back.

"Thorin's younger nephew disappeared five years ago."

"What's that got to do with anything?" The elder fixed him with a stare.

"Everything, if I am right." Bow raised his eyebrows and suddenly the white bearded dwarf was Lord Balin again, a scheming and somewhat intimidating noble of Erebor. The archer grew wary of what the dwarf opposite him would say and what he himself would give away. He cursed himself for allowing the older dwarf to lull him into an obviously false sense of security.

"Right about what?" Lord Balin took the young dwarf's calloused hands in his own and stared into his eyes intently.

"That you are the missing heir and brother. That you are Prince Kili of Erebor."

**Duh, duh, duh. Sorry for the ending (to this chapter and the last, but hey, at least it got some of you interested-from what I could tell) Please review.**


	19. Denial

**Note: **

**Enjoy. I hope you like Bow's reaction.**

**Chapter 18 - Denial**

Okay, so maybe he had lied to himself; his feet were now well and truly knocked out from under him. That did not account for what the noble had just said though.

"You're mistaken," growled Bow, unable to believe what he had just heard. Lord Balin shook his head as Bow pulled his hands from the noble's grasp.

"I do not think so. You have no memory past five years ago and you are the spitting image of him but with a beard, though it is still rather small." The older dwarf looked sideways at the archer, as if expecting some reaction but Bow just glared back at him. Offending as that last comment was to any dwarf (and him in particular due to his apparent inability to grow an actual, decent beard), Bow decided to ignore it for now anyway. He was still in shock at who Lord Balin was accusing him, or rather declaring him, to be.

"You're mistaken," he repeated louder. Several pairs of eyes looked their way. Bow ignored them and turned to walk away before being spun back around by a suddenly furious Lord Balin.

"I am not mistaken," he growled, "For Durin's sake, you even dress like him!" The younger dwarf took a step forward.

"So that means I must be like him," he said sarcastically, "I don't even know how he dresses so how can I dress exactly the same as him?" Lord Balin growled again, his bushy eyebrows coming together at a sharp angle.

"Maybe you're doing it subconsciously," he snapped, "Look at the big picture. You don't remember anything past five years ago, your first memory is waking up on a battlefield outside Erober and you have no idea how you got there. You are an archer like him, you are the same height as him and you fight in the same way as he does. Your hair, eyes and age are all the same as his. The only thing different about you is that you have a beard, but even that doesn't change anything." The old dwarf stared intently at him. "Don't tell me that none of this seems the slightest bit plausible." Bow shook his head in denial, but something in his mind flickered…closing his eyes, he shut out the fleeting images that were trying to invade his mind. No. He refused to believe it.

"You talk as if he is still alive." The elder growled.

"He is. You are just refusing to acknowledge the fact." Bow held his breath, regaining control of his anger before he trusted himself to speak.

"Sorry my Lord," he said icily, "But you're wrong."

Glaring at the curious eyes that were gazing at the pair, Bow stalked off, his back facing Lord Balin.

The archer shook his head at the inquiring look that Derain gave him from where he was seated among the healers, and walked into the darkness, shouldering his bow and a new quiver full of arrows in the process. May as well make himself useful and check that no other orcs were nearby while he gathered his thoughts.

How could Lord Balin even _consider_ the idea that he was the king's missing nephew? It was outrageous. Bow didn't know who he had been in the past life but a heir to throne wasn't even close. He would know if he had the blood on the line of Durin running through him…wouldn't he? And he would definitely recognise his family. The truth of the matter was that the young dwarf had died in the battle or soon after as the wounds he most likely would have received festered and became infected. Bow had seen it happen before, when the injured dwarf had received no proper treatment. It was a fact of life he had come to accept the hard way.

Shaking off the thought, the dark haired dwarf stared out into the darkness, only to swing around when a branch snapped behind him, bow drawn and ready to fire. Dwalin appeared, his hands held out in front of him as a sign of peace. There was one noble Bow knew he could trust. Dwalin had been the only noble that seemed to consider himself at the same level as his soldiers (some of the time anyway) and certainly the only one to act even remotely normal towards him, though sometimes his actions confused the archer. This thought brought him back to the conversation the taller dwarf had had with Derain during battle; he still needed to ask his friend hat was about. Bow cleared the distraction from his mind and focused on what the seasoned warrior was saying.

"Whoa there," said Dwalin, "Easy. You could've taken my eye out with that." Bow turned away from the taller dwarf and grunted, searching for any abnormities in the forest. He felt the footsteps of the burly dwarf through the ground and turned to find the warrior now beside him.

"You must forgive my brother," he said, "He has gone on so long without hope and to see you so much like him…Balin loved that boy like a son, as did we all. He was the youngest of the company, too young, some might claim, to make the journey. Then, of course, there is the guilt that follows us wherever we go; the guilt that we should have kept a better eye on him in the battle, maybe refused to let him come in the first place." The archer gave no sign that he had heard the dwarf and continued to scan for hostile activity. Dwalin sighed. "Are you sure that-" He was cut off as Bow swung round to meet his gaze.

"I am absolutely sure," he said with clear confidence, perhaps too much, "That I am not some lost prince. He probably died in the battle and body was lost amongst all the others. I'm sorry, but what other explanation could there be?" The older dwarf shook his head, clearly not believing him.

"You talk of the battle as if you were there." Bow shrugged.

"According to Lord Balin I was," seeing the look Dwalin gave him he continued, "But that doesn't mean I am who he says I am." There was no way it was possible. At all.

"Then who are you?" asked the warrior. It was a blunt question, but one that Bow would rather not answer for fear of what the answer might be. The archer hung his head.

"I don't know," he whispered. Dwalin smiled grimly, shaking his own head.

"Then you are in a state of denial, for who else could you be?" The archer's eyes flashed up and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Anyone else," he snapped out before stalking off and leaving the other dwarf alone in the dark staring after him, not noticing the lone tear that tracked down the hardened warrior's face. He paused without turning. "And may I ask what it was you were talking to Derain about, or is that confidential?" Dwalin sighed wearily, another sound that Bow did not pick up on.

"That is for him to tell you. It is not my place." Bow let go of the breath he was holding. What did it matter? It wasn't as if his world hadn't already been turned upside down.

Dwalin watched the slight figure retreat, his own thoughts churning like mad. The lad might not trust nobles, but at least he could be sure that there was someone watching his back that the archer _did _trust. For now, that would have to do.

**Please review and tell me what you think.**


	20. Thoughts

**Note: **

**Thanks for your reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well (though the ending could probably be done a bit better). It might also give you a few answers towards why he hates nobles.**

**Chapter 19 - Thoughts**

After that, Bow avoided everyone as much as he could, trying to erase the looks the other dwarves had given him from his mind. The archer lost himself in his work, making new arrows, patrolling and helping Oin tend to the injured when needed. Whenever he had spare time, and he had a lot of it, Bow trained, whether it be with sword or bow or knife. Anything to stop himself dwelling on what Balin and Dwalin had said.

Derain had not asked him what had passed between the archer and Balin and for that Bow was grateful. He wasn't sure how his friend would take it or if he wanted to share his thoughts at all. That did not mean his apparent change in behaviour had gone unnoticed by the former blacksmith who somehow just seemed to appear wherever Bow was. This time was no different.

"Why are you being so secluded as of late?" the raven haired dwarf asked. Bow ignored him and continued to poke at the small fire they were camped around. Across the camp, he saw Balin, Oin and Fili watching him. Balin made to stand but Oin pulled him back down.

Sighing Bow tore his gaze away from the trio and stared back at the fire. Derain followed his line of sight to the three officials and looked at the brown haired dwarf.

"Okay then, why do you hate them so much?" he asked, somehow knowing he was definitely not going to get an answer his first question. Bow grunted.

"I don't hate them." That was at least part of the truth. His friend growled in frustration at the short answer, but smiled due to the fact that he _had_ gotten an answer out of his friend who he had not heard speak for most of the day.

"Well at least we know you can still talk," looking at the archer, Derain stared into his eyes, "Come on. You can tell me." Sighing again, Bow relented, if only to shut his friend up. He knew full well that Derain would keep on pestering him until he either gave in and talked or gave in and yelled at him. Either way he would give in and Bow wanted to keep his friend.

"I don't appreciate the way they hole up in Erober and ignore the outlying regions for five years before they come waltzing in to play hero." Derain raised his eyebrows.

"There has got to be more than that," he said and he was right. Bow hadn't told him everything and he didn't want to. But, upon seeing his friends concerned look, he quelled the feeling.

"Sharn's family was killed by orcs just under five years ago. She had everything taken from her and they done nothing," Bow told him sourly and glared into the depths of the fir before laughing bitterly, "Not that they probably could have done anything, before you leap to the _nobles'_ defence. The village was on the far, far outskirts of Erebor, probably just outside of the boundary line if anything. So there was no way they could have gotten there in time."

Bow had had a lot of time to think about the incident, five years in fact. After meeting the nobles, the archer had reluctantly admitted to himself that at least some of them would have done something if they could have. That didn't lessen his anger towards the majority of the others though. It also didn't give them the right to start claiming who he was left, right and centre.

"I didn't know." Too right he hadn't; after the raid, him and Sharn had moved villages to get away from the memory. Far away.

"The three of us were caught outside the village, and it was a good thing too. Within minutes the orcs had slaughtered everyone in sight and set the place ablaze," Bow began to get caught up in the memory, almost smelling the blood tanged smoke from that day, "We were ambushed but fought them off, though he was grievously injured. He didn't die then, but later on, after we made it back to the remains of the village. As far as we could tell, we were the only survivors. He died painfully, not even an honourable death to an enemy, but to lowly infection. And after all Arón had done to keep Sharn and me safe as well…" Derain was silent for a while, but the name seemed to have caught his attention. He picked up on the vibe Bow was giving out though and decided to change the topic slightly.

"Is that what you and Lord Balin argued about?" he asked after several minutes. Bow snorted, shaking his head.

"Not even close." Derain was about to say something else when approaching footsteps made them look up. It was the King Under the Mountain.

"Get some sleep. We will be arriving tomorrow." They both nodded respectfully to their king, one more so than the other, and watched as he walked over to another group. Bow looked after him, confused. It had been the second time the king had directly spoken to him and the fact that he was going around to all the common soldiers was enough to send Bow's already frazzled brain into overdrive.

"We might as well take his advice," Derain said and his friend grunted. Never the less, they both unrolled their blankets and laid down upon them, staring up at the star filled sky.

Bow wondered what it would be like to just be able to roam among the stars, free of any cares or worries. How peaceful they must be, looking down onto this land from above and at the same time be so detached from what was actually happening…

"You know they had just won back Erober."

Bow frowned and turned over, facing his friend, confused. Derain elaborated.

"Five years ago, there was a major battle for the city and all its treasure. Many lives were lost and the city was a wreck. Don't you remember." Bow didn't think so, but if he believed Balin, he did remember the end at least. He was also the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield too if he believed him. Not likely in any case. "Besides, the king was in mourning for his youngest nephew who was lost in the skirmish. He was his uncle after all, and the only family he had left besides his brother. All the others died long before they could make the trip to win back the stolen city." Derain finished and the air between them was silent again. It didn't take long for Derain's snores to fill it though.

Bow thought about what his friend had said, about the king having only his nephew left for family. As much as he hated to admit it, the king had suffered greatly and it was within his every right as an uncle and family member to mourn the loss of his younger nephew. It had also reviled another side of the hard king to Bow, a side that would explain why he was gracing the soldiers with his presence, like a general did before battle.

Before battle…

Maybe, just maybe, he cared about something more than gold after all.

**Please review.**


	21. Ready

**Note: **

**Not the best chapter I know, but I hope you enjoy it never the less.**

**Chapter 20 - Ready**

It was midday when they reached the village.

Bow was tired; as were they all; and his feet felt like he had been walking on them non-stop for a year or more, not months. Derain felt the same way. Bow could tell by the way his friend was complaining.

"I have a blister on my foot," he said in an informative manner, "That I believe is about the size of my head." Bow smiled.

"Must be a pretty big blister then." His friend made to reply but was cut off as Thorin Oakenshield called for silence.

It had been determined that the ambush party of orcs was indeed part of a larger group that was responsible for the frequent raids. And, as the only village in the immediate area for a good day that had not been attacked, it had also been determined that the village they were now in was the next target. Every able bodied dwarf (with the exception of a few soldiers and healers left behind to look after the injured) had been marching since a little before dawn.

"We will station ourselves here and wait for the rest of the orcs to show themselves," said the deep voice of the king, "Meanwhile, I will need a group of you to begin the evacuation process. I do not want the dwarves in this village to be caught in the fighting. You will receive your orders once we assess our available options." So they were fighting here.

When Bow thought about it, it made sense. Let the orcs bring the fighting to them while they set up a receiving force here, meaning they could fight on their own terms. That would be what Bow would do if he was in charge…and how he could be sure this is what he would do with no real apparent training eluded the archer. Lord Balin had an answer but it was wrong and Bow pushed it to the back of his mind. He had to be sure of who he was when he was fighting and he was certain that he was Bow. Almost certain anyway.

Dwalin proceeded to give orders, relaying them from the king and Lord Balin. Derain was on evacuation duty along with a dozen more. The group of warriors set off to guide the villagers already waiting on the outskirts of the town to a small area the company had stumbled upon that was a safe but close distance away. This was a fact that Bow was grateful for; he had seen first hands the damage a group of orcs could lay to a village and those in it, and he would not wish the fate upon anyone.

He himself was to be stationed atop the roofs along with the other archers. A bird's eye view of the skirmish, thought Bow as he was moving to take his post.

"Hey," he heard a voice call from behind him. Turning around Bow found himself face to face with the crowned prince of Erober. The golden haired dwarf gave him a small smile as calm blue eyes searched his face. Bow stared boldly back at him.

"I thought it was you," said the king's heir before holding out a piece of parchment, "Could you deliver this to Oin for me?" Bow nodded.

"Anything to be of service," he said respectfully, bowing stiffly as he did so. He did not know much about the prince except for that he was the king's nephew and what Derain had told him. Bow wondered if he still felt grief over his younger brother. There seemed to be a seriousness present in the dwarf's eyes that was only seen in that of dwarves older than the prince. Strange.

Taking the note, Bow made his way over to the healer.

"Oin…OIN!" he said, sighing inwardly as the partly deaf dwarf ignored him the first time. The healer turned around and smiled. The archer did not return it, unsure if he had yet forgiven Oin for giving away his secret.

"Ah, Bow. And what can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly. Bow shifted on his feet.

"The prince told me to give you this," he said handing the note to Oin. The healer opened and read it. His expression didn't give anything away. "Thank you," the healer said, waving him away.

Walking back towards his post, Bow looked around.

The evacuation process was in full swing with soldiers forming the inhabitants into a more organised column. Almost no women with children were left and about half the young men had gone with them. Good. As far as he could tell, Derain was also with the soldiers who would be staying with the group in case any orcs managed to slip past the main force and find the villagers. That was also good. Bow did not want to see his friend die in battle, least of all to an orc.

Bow turned his attention to the king, mind churning away. He had obviously misjudged the king's priorities before if his orders were anything to go by. The stern looking dwarf obviously cared for his subjects. He also seemed to care for his remaining nephew; a fact Bow could tell as he watched the elder murmur to the golden haired dwarf. Knowing it was a private moment, the archer turned away and watched the bustling activity from above.

It was near evening when they finished their preparations. The village was barricaded; they would be forcing the orcs to fight just outside to try and save as many of the houses as they could. It would not really do if they saved the people and allowed the village to be driven to the ground or become a battlefield full of carnage. No, better to keep as much innocent lives out of this as possible.

A shout erupted from the other side and Bow ran over towards the direction of the commotion. In the distance, orcs mounted on wargs were running towards them. Even from where he was standing, Bow knew the odds weren't good; with half their force either with the evacuees or injured due to the ambush, they were outnumbered at least two to one. And the enemy had archers meaning they could be picked off at any time. As far as weapons went, the most useful and destructive in battle would have to be the bow because generally never saw the arrow coming towards you until it was impossible for you not to.

**Please review.**


	22. Aim

**Note: **

**I really hope you like the next chapter, it will be ****better than this one, though probably a bit shorter****… **

**Chapter 21 - Aim**

Bow stood over the king as the fighting raged on. All the villagers had gotten out; Derain and the other soldiers assigned to the job had seen to that; so there was no one left for the orcs to fight except for the company. The group had been much bigger than Bow had originally anticipated, and it was now blindingly obvious that the party that had ambushed them had been a 'small' party. A _very_ small party.

Bow continued to fire away into the throng, each arrow striking home. Eyes, throat, chest; he aimed for them all, trying to help out his comrades as best he could. The other archers were in the thick of the fighting now and Bow was only held back by his duty to defend the recovering king. A duty Lord Balin had thrust upon him when Thorin Oakenshield had been inconveniently (but not fatally) jumped by a particularly large warg.

Hearing a grunt from beside him, Bow fired the arrow in his bow and bent to help the dwarfish king stand. Across from him, Derain was holding his own and more than once had saved his back. Bow was confused as to why the dwarf was fighting though and the brief answer of "I have other orders" did little to sate his curiosity. What orders could be more important than protecting innocent people?

Drawing his attention back to the king, Bow noted with some pride that the dwarf appeared to be unaffected by his brief time spent winded on the ground; Thorin Oakenshield did represent the dwarfish race after all.

"Pull in," he heard Dwalin yell and those still standing formed a ring around the now standing king. The orcs pulled their wargs into a large circle, surrounding them and drawing in closer with each step.

"Hold your ground." This time the yell belonged to Fili, the golden haired prince, as he moved towards his uncle, duel swords drawn and a look of utter determination etched across his face. The other dwarves tightened the grip on their weapons, waiting tensely for the next command. More orcs seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and they were far more organised than anyone had been lead to suspect.

A warg suddenly darted forward and a dwarf lost his cool. Breaking out of the protective circle, he tried to run for cover but was quickly taken down by the large beast. A few of the others began to shift but the king silenced them with a bellow. In the distance a dominating figure stood over the enemy; too far to shoot down from where the company was standing.

"Hold your ground." They all obeyed, not wanting to share the same fate as the other dwarf. Bow pulled back the string of his weapon, arrow in place. He caught Dwalin's eye and nodded before slinking towards one of the more open sides of the circle, understanding what the larger dwarf was thinking. Breaking into a run, he dashed for the cover of the trees, releasing the arrow as he went. The warg that had been about to jump him fell dead to the ground, crushing its rider beneath it.

Bow ignored the shouts of 'coward' behind him as he disappeared between the trees. He sneaked slowly forward, drawing another arrow from his quiver, noting that he had only four left, five if he included the one he had pulled from one of his previous kills. It would be more than enough to allow him to accomplish his task but whether he would need the other arrows was a question he did not really want to think about. In any case, orcs weren't known for their great positioning in protecting their flanks when their enemy was supposedly pinned down in front of them.

A rustle above him left the archer with four arrows as an orc fell to the ground, arrow buried deep into its chest. A few steps further and Bow was left with three, leaving the corpse of a larger orc behind him and no sound to give away his current position. A few more steps and Bow sighted the tree line and, beyond that, the place where the leader of the orcs resided. Take him out and you would most likely take out the entire group; so was the path of the logic he was following anyway.

The archer was about to step forward when he heard a crashing sound behind him. Spinning around, his heart leapt into his throat as he stared into the eyes of a rouge and extremely large warg. Letting loose an arrow, Bow cursed as he hurried the shot and missed. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his second last arrow from the quiver and held his breath. He paused, holding the bow and arrow in place as the warg charged him. Closing his eyes, he exhaled and the tell-tale thud of an arrow hitting flesh let Bow know that he had hit his mark. The absent of any major sound let him know that he had hit his mark silently.

Turning back around, Bow steeled his panicky nerves. The enemy hadn't noticed him through the trees yet, but it was only a matter of time and now he had only one arrow to make his shot. Not that he would have had a second chance with another arrow, it was just comforting knowing he had a backup in case something went wrong.

Drawing back the string on his bow once again, the dwarfish archer stepped forward into the outlying shadows around the trees and aimed. He heard a shout as the orcs steered their mounts in and out, trying to draw the remaining dwarves from their protective circle. He heard another shout, closer this time as his location was revealed. He heard the whistle of something familiar flying through the air, coming closer and closer.

Bow blocked out the sounds and focused on his target, drawing the string back further until it just touched his cheek. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, the dwarf closed his eyes and imagined the shot. He imagined the arrow leaving the bow and flying through the air. He imagined it making and arching curve downwards and burying itself in the chest of the orcs' leader. Opening his eyes, Bow took the shot.

**Sorry about the cliff-hanger, but next chapter will probably be worse (I believe I have issues with ending a chapter normally). Please review. **


	23. Remember

**Note: **

**The moment you have all been waiting for…**

**Chapter 22 - Remember**

The arrow flew true and buried itself deep into the heart of the orcish leader. He fell from his mount, already dead, and was trampled by the stamped his death had caused. Several orcs looked over in the direction the arrow had come and saw the dwarf responsible kneeling on the ground surrounded by a pool of blood, slowly removing the orc arrow buried in his side. It hadn't gone in deep, but the wound was large and he had already lost a lot of blood. Blackness grasped at his vision as he stared at the now blurry arrow in his hands.

The sounds of fighting were slowly dying down as the orcs were either cut down or fled, no longer having anyone to tell them what to do. In his mind's eye, Bow saw the incredible aura of the golden haired prince as he cut through what seemed to be a vast sea of struggling figures, trying, it seemed, to get to him. He heard the prince cry out but the sound was jumbled along with everything else. He slipped slightly forward before feeling a pair of strong, thick, muscular arms surround him, holding him close just like they had when they were both children.

The pain opened a floodgate of thoughts he had been trying to block for the past few weeks. The shock of it all made him gasp and his breathing faltered for a moment before he wheezed in another lungful of air. There was no denying the truth now, no matter how much he tried to refuse it. But familiarity was what he craved; everything else was ominous and frightening, especially the black that was attempting to creep into his consciousness.

Hearing his name being called, the archer struggled to stay conscious, trying to see the grim face that swam above him. A hand stroked his face, and the dwarf let out a hiss, the slight movement only intensifying the unbearable agony he felt lancing up his side. He heard a soft voice cooing to him, reassuring him that everything would be alright and the dwarf tried to hold onto the words but again they slipped through his grasp.

Another pair of hands joined the first, putting pressure upon the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding. A deeper voice spoke, sharp and urgent as it shouted to someone nearby. It then focused on him, a tone laced with worry and concern replacing the authoritative one it had been using a second earlier.

The injured dwarf moaned and closed his eyes, unable to hold them open any longer. Images flashed through his mind and he felt guilty about leaving them, about tearing the joyful smiles off their faces as they were again left behind by one of their kin. He felt someone shaking him, gently at first, then harder as they tried to rouse him from the grasps of the darkness. Someone was begging with him, pleading that he open his eyes and it broke the dwarf's heart to refuse but he was no longer in control of his body.

Shouts sounded around him, echoing in his head. His brain was screaming at him to give it oxygen, but he did not have the strength to. Lips closed around his and he felt air being blown into his lungs, once, twice, three times. His brain rejoiced as it received the much needed air and his lungs set to work, making him cough a few times before allowing him to draw in a small, shaky breath.

He breathed out a word, small, shaky and broken, and so, so wonderful. It felt like honey on his tongue after so long a drought without it. And drowned in the intense pain, it was the ray of light at the end of a tunnel, something to cling to and live for. He said it again, savouring the way the combination of the different sounds felt in his mouth.

He was turned on his uninjured side and he felt tears fall on his face. He heard someone sobbing beside him; whether it was out of relief, worry or something else he did not know, not that he would be able to decipher the different emotions anyway. The pressure on his wound lifted slightly and he screamed as he felt the arrow being pulled out by its shaft, before something was wrapped around his middle, making him moan in pain as it was tightened. The flurry of hands had stopped and for that, he was thankful, not sure if he could have stood much more.

A soft, deep humming drew him into a state of sleepiness, reminding him of the times the very same humming had put him to sleep as a child, his head being cradled in the same rough hands. Another pair of familiar hands were tangling themselves in his hair like they had often done, assuring he was safe and loved. Letting out a small, contented sigh, he gave into unconsciousness and allowed himself to fall into a deep, deep slumber. And with that slumber came everything that he had been holding back…

**Sorry this is shorter than usual (the next one might be as well, depending-hope you enjoy it). Please review. **


	24. Sleep

**Note: **

**He is not conscious at all in this chapter. Next one ****he will be though. Just wanted to point that out. There is also a small bit at ****the end you may like.**

**Chapter 23 - Sleep**

_It was violent. There was no other way to describe it. Bodies here, corpses there; all laid low one bloody way or another And the glory they had so often been told about, the honour of dying in battle; there was none and the thought of it made Kili sick._

_He had lost sight of his brother and uncle as another wave of goblins had come towards them. Panic began to grip his heart but he forced it down. It would do no good for him here nor would it do any good for his kin when he found them again, for he would find them just like he always had when they were separated. He just prayed he would not find them dead or worse, buried somewhere beneath nameless victims of battle._

_The fighting had long gone into the night, the fields pitch black with the only exceptions being the flaming arrows that buzzed around in the air. The enemy was relentless; giving no ground and sparing no lives. They were everywhere and Kili suddenly found himself surrounded, in the midst of a small group of dwarves, all strangers to him. What he wouldn't give to have someone he knew and trusted at his back._

_A scream of agony rang out beside him, startling the prince and raising goose bumps on his skin. He had been hearing the same cries for long enough that they had permanently imprinted in his brain. He shuddered involuntary. He swore he would never forget the horrors he had witnessed, not for a thousand years._

_Drawing his sword out of the goblin he had just impaled, looking around wild eyed; he had yet to see his brother and uncle. Fear blossomed in the pit of his stomach; what could he do? They were a reassurance to him when he felt insecure and he had never felt as insecure as he did now. Where in Durin's name were they?_

_Kili cursed as he felt an unnatural breeze behind him. He ducked just in time to avoid the killing blow that had been aimed at his head. Swinging around, he tried to gain a perspective of where his would-be-murder was standing. Seeing the glint of a somewhat jagged sword rise above him, he lifted his own to meet it. The two weapons met in mid-air and Kili grunted with the force that the goblin had struck with. Untangling the two swords, the pair exchanged a serious of blows in an attempt to gain the upper hand. In the end it was the dwarf prince who won, managing to get beneath his opponent's defences and land a fatal blow. Kicking away the lifeless body, Kili looked up only to another wave of goblins rushing towards him._

_It seemed like the night would never end. The sky above them was blanketed by clouds and the moon now appeared to be stained red. Of course, it could just be Kili's imagination. Hours upon hours of gore filled scenes tended to have that effect on people._

_A defiant screech came from beside him as an elf ran past, looking half out of his mind. His armour was torn to shreds and the sword he held was broken off at the hilt. Never the less the crazed soldier barged his way through the enemy lines, only to be cut down mere feet away from Kili. The dwarf closed his eyes as the bodiless head fell to the ground, the sickening thump hidden by the chaos of the battlefield. Kili resisted the urge to empty the contents of his stomach as he felt the head nudge his foot. He kicked it away, repulsed._

_Butchering several more goblins, Kili resumed his search for his lost kin. Adrenaline pumped through his body and sweat trickled down his face and back. His breathing was hard and fast, matching the rapid beating of his heart. Kili cursed as he felt a blade slice his upper bicep, catching the glimpse of a knife as it continued to make its way through the air. He couldn't feel the incision, but he knew he would later and that if it was deep, he was in danger of bleeding out. In the absence of light, he could not make anything out though and settled for applying a brief amount of pressure to the wound in an attempt to stem some of the flow of blood._

_Kili continued to cleave his way through the enemy, grunting with the effort it took to move his deadened limbs. He hacked the head off a particularly large goblin before stopping again, giving himself a chance to recuperate before he forged his way on. There was a whistling noise overhead and an arrow landed not three feet away from where Kili stood. A burly dwarf's scream was cut short as he fell prey to an axe, falling beside the brown haired dwarf literally dead to the world. Kili too pitched forward as he received a what was meant to be a killing blow to the back of the head, world turning white before exploding into an abyss of darkness._

Thorin sat, watching in the shadows as the archer's chest heaved with an obvious effort. His blue eyes roamed over the still form that was so blessedly familiar, brow creasing slightly as the young dwarf's eyelids flickered rapidly. Obviously he was dreaming and whatever it was, it probably wasn't good. The king breathed a small sigh, shifting his weight as his elder nephew entered into the borrowed room.

"Thorin?" The dwarf king smiled slightly.

"So you snuck in too." Fili looked at the ground.

"Oin's been pretty tight lipped." Thorin fiddled with the hem of his tunic.

"That he has and his friend hasn't said much of anything either," he sighed again, "I suppose I will have to apologise to Balin." It appeared the old dwarf had been right. Fili looked at his uncle, the blonde's own blue eyes penetrating deep into the dwarf king's own eyes.

"He will recover right?" The quite question caught the king off guard though he knew he should have been expecting it.

"Oin is the best healer I know. There is no possible way he would let your brother die." Fili didn't look all that reassured and there was brief stretch of silence before the blonde asked another question that had been lingering in his mind.

"Will he be the same though?" Thorin looked at the fevered dwarf that lay between them. His nephew's eyes continued to flicker beneath his eyelids though the rest of him remained frustratingly still. The young dwarf's face had the same features about it, but its set was different, somehow more serious and grown up. And more wary too, as if he was unsure of who he could trust and who he couldn't. It took the king a while to reply to the elder's question.

"We can only hope, lad, we can only hope." Deep down though, he knew that Kili would not be the same, no one would after so long a time in a completely different life. Who knew what he had been through, how his mind had changed? Thorin certainly didn't, and if anything, it scared him not knowing how his beloved nephew would react.

** Please review. **


	25. Questions

**Note: **

**From here on in, I will be calling Bow Kili except for a few obvious exceptions because, yes, he has finally remembered. Nearing the end thankfully, though not all the drama is over yet. Sorry I didn't update sooner (I was going to but I had to go somewhere and when I got back, I pretty much went straight to sleep). Next chapter will be updated faster.**

**Chapter 24 - Questions**

The archer woke for a second time to Derain and Oin talking only a few mere paces away from where he lay on a stranger's bed. Whereas the first time he had wanted to be alone, this time he wanted company; the problem was whose company he wanted. He was unclear of that himself. In fact, he was unclear _of_ himself. Making up his mind, he called out to his friend for the past five years. The raven haired dwarf turned towards him.

"Bow," cried Derain, face relieved, "You're awake, finally." Kili winced as his friend's loud voice echoed around in his head. "For while there, you scared me. I thought you were never going to come round…"

Kili looked over to the grey beared healer as Derain continued to chatter away, filling the disorientated dwarf in on everything he had missed for the time he had been unconscious. From what the archer gathered, Elion had survived as had old misery guts, their former superior officer, the two supposedly pulling off some amazing moves on the battlefield and otherwise saving his friend's hind. Oin smiled causing Kili to avert his gaze. He was still unsure of how to react. It had been five years after all, five long years. He winced at both the thought and the pain.

"Bow?" he heard Derain ask in concern before his voice gained a strange undertone, "Or is it Prince Kili now?" Oin paused in what he was doing, ears pricked and shoulders tense. Kili closed his eyes, unable to look into his friend's own green ones any longer.

"Please go," he asked in a hoarse whisper, his voice cracking from lack of use. He couldn't deal with that question yet. Maybe it had been a mistake to talk to Derain.

Kili listened as the door closed. He opened one eye and looked around.

He was in a small room that obviously belonged to one of the houses on the outskirts of the village. Oin was busy in one corner mashing something or the other up into a thick paste. Kili grimaced at the memory of all the bitter tasting ones he had had shoved down his throat when he was younger. The dark haired dwarf paused. He remembered when he was younger.

Kili stifled a groan of pain as another, far more recent memory came to light. Damn; he had definitely not been expecting that arrow to hit him in the side. It had sort of screwed up any future plans he had at the moment, not that he had really had any, but still, it was nice to feel in control of your life, something he wasn't feeling overly much at the moment. He felt a light tap on the head and looked up, opening both eyes.

"Don't hide your pain," said Oin, "It might work with other healers but I know you too well." Kili groaned for an entirely different reason. Know…he would give almost anything just to know who he was. "I take it you remember then."

The healer began to set about ensuring that Kili met whatever medical checklist he had running inside his head. After a few more prods, he moved back over to the corner he had been standing in before. Kili groaned again as another wave of pain hit him, then cried out as it grew. Oin was instantly at his side, lifting his head and pressing a small bowl against his lips. Kili held them stubbornly closed.

"Don't try this with me," the healer warned, "Or I will get your uncle in here and have him do it." Kili closed his eyes and focused on calming his breathing. His uncle…

Damn.

Reluctantly he opened his mouth and grudgingly allowed Oin to pour the vile mixture through his lips.

"Now swallow and don't spit it back out. You were unconscious for a while and I do not want you to have another relapse." Kili frowned as he did what he was told. His pain lessened somewhat.

"Another?" he rasped out. Oin nodded, passing him a cup of water to dampen his somewhat parched mouth and throat.

"You gained a fever, twice; the second time was worse than the first. Me and your friend, Derain, are the only ones who really know how you are. The others we kept informed, but considering the gravity of the situation, I deemed it wise not to allow room for too much hope that you would make it. Besides, I was unsure of how much you would remember and how you would react. I saw it better for a friend that you had been close to for the past few years to be there instead of your uncle and brother when you woke. Would be less intimidating and awkward for you." Kili sighed to himself.

To be frank, this would probably be more easier if he didn't remember who he was; if he was still just Bow. Now he had two personalities to choose from, two different lives, and neither of them seemed like him at all. A jostling beside the injured dwarf brought him back to himself.

"So, in answer to Derain's question, who are you? Bow or Kili?" Kili swallowed.

"I doubt uncle will let be anything other than his nephew now that he knows for certain it is me." Oin nodded again, brow creased in thought.

"You are right; I know Thorin would not want to lose you again. Neither would your brother." Kili felt guilt begin to rise in his stomach. He had left them thinking he was dead for five years when he was very much alive and well; him losing all memory of them only added insult to what they must have felt. Then he felt guilty about not inquiring about them as soon as he had woken.

"How are they?" he asked, swallowing out of anticipation. Surely Oin would have told him if anything had happened to them. Oin smiled reassuringly.

"They are fine considering the circumstances. No permanent injuries." The healer's broad answer reminded Kili to not always trust Oin's word. Though he never lied about the situation of one of his patients, he never told the whole truth either. It was part of his job as a healer Kili supposed.

The two sat in silence, both obviously mulling over a thought that preoccupied their minds. For Kili, it was what he was going to do now.

"Do you want to see them?" Oin's question sent alarm waves throughout Kili's entire being. Did he want to see his brother and uncle? In short, the truthful answer was no. What else could it be when he was still unsure of himself? "Kili…?"

"No, not yet at least." Oin nodded his support, though his eyes looked slightly downcast.

"I suppose it would be the best choice until you regain some of your strength. I will leave you to rest." With that, the healer departed, leaving Kili alone to ponder his many thoughts. He thought back to what both Oin and Derain had asked.

Who was he? Good question.

** Please review. **


	26. Identity

**Note: **

**For those of you wondering when he will remember Dis, go back and read the end of chapter 19 (Thoughts). I hope this chapter also answers as to why he doesn't remember her as well. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 25 - Identity**

"You know you will have to talk to them at some point, don't you?" Kili tried to ignore Oin's words as best he could.

The young dwarf was still understandably bedridden almost a week after he had first awoken. Oin was constantly giving him various brews to help lessen his pain and ward off another fever or infection, for the older dwarf feared what would happen if Kili had yet another relapse.

While Kili was grateful to the healer, he bluntly refused to allow anyone to visit him, evading the grey beared dwarf one way or another every time he suggested it. At first he had feigned sleepiness to get out of the awkward conversations that were sure to follow any visit, but the excuse was rendered useless after several days and the brown haired dwarf had been forced to find a new way of getting out of that which he feared. It was driving Oin mad.

"Kili, it is no use in hiding away from them. They are your family," he sighed as Kili stubbornly refused to hear him, "Then at least allow one of your friends to visit you. You are making them all worried."

Kili winced as Oin tightened the bandage. He was still unsure of who he was exactly. Kili had been a relatively carefree youth, though he had known the hardships of life and had the pressure of being one of the king's heirs thrust upon his shoulders. Bow, on the other hand, had been married to a beautiful wife with one child and a son, another on the way. The blacksmith had no royal connections whatsoever and no social pressure besides the responsibility of providing for and protecting his family. Something in which he had failed. And that was another thing too. Bow had experienced more loss than Kili had ever know. While the former had lost both his parents, he had been too young to truly know the implications and significance of this. Bow had lost everything in a very short period of time and he had understood what this _had_ meant. And he had suffered. Lots.

"Alright." Oin looked around towards him.

"Alright what?" Kili inhaled, closing his eyes before exhaling and opening them.

"Alright I will speak to some_one_." He put emphasis on the one. It was all he would be able to deal with. "And they can't be…" Durin, he couldn't even say their names. He was messed up. Thankfully Oin understood.

"At least your opening up," said the healer before he walked out the door.

Kili sighed, leaning back against the pillows. In the absence of another presence, pain began to lance up his side; harsh but not unbearable. A small pounding began in his head as well; not so much a physical ache but an mental thought repeating itself over and over. Who was he? Right now, an injured dwarf recovering from an arrow wound; in other words, no one in particular.

"You've been having one hell of a time laddie." Kili turned his head to see Dwalin walking in the room. Oin didn't follow. That was alright. Besides the healer, Dwalin was probably the only one he could deal with at the current point in time. Bow had been a definition of close to the warrior after all, which would make this process somewhat easier.

"I suppose you could say that."

Kili watched as the seasoned warrior pulled up a chair and seated himself next to the bed.

"How are you doing?"

"Getting there slowly." Mahal, this was awkward and not just for him, Kili could see that the large dwarf was nervous too. His mind churned over for something to say. "How are…" He trailed off, unable to finish the question, but Dwalin thankfully understood what he was getting at.

"Hmm. Oin won't tell you?" Kili shook his head.

"Not directly in any case." Dwalin smiled reassuringly.

"Their fine. A few scratches but nothing serious. Mostly worried." He glanced sidelong at the dwarf in front of him. Kili ignored the look.

"What about you…and Balin?" Dwalin shook his head.

"Just a few bruises. I may also have acquired a scratch or two." Kili shook his head.

"You call that a scratch?' he asked, nodding towards the heavily bandaged arm that contradicted the burly dwarf's previous statement.

"I can call it whatever I damn well like," he said defensively. Kili raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sure Oin agrees with you." Dwalin snorted.

"Oin. Always making a bigger deal out of things that are in actual fact a tiny issue."

"Tell me about it," Kili thought for a bit, "I am sure he has his reasons though." Dwalin nodded.

"He does care about us I suppose in what I take to be a deeply twisted way. No matter what him and Balin say, I see no point in being forced to drink whatever horrible mixture he comes up with." Kili smiled for what was the first time in a long while. "It's good to see you smile again. I missed that sneaky grin of yours."

The two dwarves fell silent, allowing a long and awkward silence to stretch between them. Dwalin fiddled with his thumbs while Kili played with the edge of his blanket. When it became clear that the seasoned warrior was not going to start the next conversation, Kili cleared his throat.

"Tell me something," he began, his mind and stomach churning like mad, "What do you do when you are two different people?" Dwalin looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Kili took a breath.

"Say you were someone in the past and then someone again now. What do you do when one person wants you to be the person you were before and someone else wants you to be the new person, but you can't be either because you are someone completely different?" Dwalin frowned.

"I would be myself. Being anything else would just be a lie."

A dwarf messenger tapped on the door, stating that the king had requested for Dwalin's presence. The warrior gave Kili a small smile.

"Get better," he said before standing, "And I hope you choose whatever makes you happy." With that, he left, leaving Kili to ponder his thoughts.

** Please review. **


	27. Between Friends

**Note: **

**Next chapter; FILI AND KILI. Finally the two brothers get a chapter together (a full, proper chapter). Hopefully it will meet your expectations. Also, sorry for anyone who had trouble following the dialogue in the previous chapter.**

**Chapter 26 - Between Friends**

Kili breathed the sweet air of freedom. Finally he was allowed out, even if it was only a few steps outside the small house he was had been confined to for an equally few minutes. Kili had forgotten how strict Oin could be when it came to his patients; then again, thought the young dwarf as he tried to stretch to his limitations, had forgotten a lot of things.

"Let you out did he?"

Kili jumped and turned to see Balin leaning against the close d door, watching him. The injured dwarf wanted badly to run, but in his current physical state he wouldn't get far and he couldn't just go back inside without an adequate explanation for Oin. Great. This was the exact situation he had been trying to avoid. But then again, Balin had always been good at cornering him. Come to think of it, Oin had probably known this would happen. Taking a breath, he answered the question.

"Yes." This was far more awkward than the conversation with the white bearded dwarf's brother had been.

"Hmm, I see. How long did he let you out for?" Balin's question nearly had Kili cheering. A way out.

"Not long. I probably should be getting back now come to think of it." The brown haired dwarf could have sworn he saw Balin's smile turn into one of a crafty nature as he said this.

"I am sure Oin would be fine if you stayed out a few minutes longer. From what I understand, he is examining someone at this moment. I am sure they would not like to be disturbed."

Damn. Oin had definitely set this up.

"Oh…uh…" Kili was left completely washed up with what to say. Balin smirked.

"Surely I am not that intimidating?" Kili smiled sheepishly at the elder's comment.

"At this moment..." The brown haired dwarf had to admit he wasn't as intimidating as Thorin would be.

"It is not my intention to place you in discomfort. I just want to talk." Balin watched as Kili shifted uncomfortably.

"Uh…I…um…" Kili couldn't think straight. He really didn't want to talk but could see no way to remove himself from the situation.

"So, Dwalin tells me you are at a loss for who you are." Kili gave an affirmative grunt to the Balin's statement. "You know, no matter what you say, you are not completely changed. The Kili I knew was as equally reluctant to talk about whatever was bothering him. It caused many a misunderstanding." Balin looked at Kili as he finished, waiting for the younger dwarf to meet his eyes.

"What are you getting at?" Kili frowned at the ground. Balin sighed.

"I am suggesting you tell me what's on your mind. It might help."

Kili looked from Balin's concerned face over to where Derain was sitting, talking to several others. He had not seen his friend after he had asked him to leave when he had first awakened.

"I am not completely sure what Derain would do if I were to become Kili, prince of Erebor. I do not want to lose a friend," he said looking down. Balin nodded in understanding.

"Then you need to talk to him." Balin walked off and when Kili looked up he saw why.

"Hey."

"Hey," Kili muttered back, eyes fixing on a point above his friend's head. They stood there for an awkward while.

_Talk to him._ Easy enough for Balin to say. He hadn't forgotten who he was.

"So, how are you?" Derain asked, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic.

"On the mend. Oin knows what he's doing." Derain nodded in agreement with Kili's answer. It was obvious the injured dwarf was getting better; he looked far more healthy than he had a week before.

"And what about…you know?" Derain's face looked strangely blank as he said this. Kili sighed.

"Still no idea. I'm Kili for now; just Kili, no titles; but it just doesn't feel right. It's not who I am." The archer watched his friend closely. Derain's face betrayed nothing.

"What about Bow? What if you tried being him? Surely that would feel right?" Kili could have laughed at his friend's naivety and almost wishful thinking.

"I seriously doubt that Thorin would allow me to deny my place as his heir so easily. And with all my memories back, Bow is like a story. The problem is the story was real, every bit of it," Kili laughed bitterly, "So now when I even think about staying true to my blood linage, I feel like I'm betraying you, them."

"You do not have to worry about betraying me." Kili was confused by what his friend had just said. It didn't match up with his reactions.

"But you seem to…" Derain cut off his friend, turning to smile at him.

"If I have seemed a bit off lately, it would be because I am unsure of how to react. I've haven't known you for all that long, but long enough that knowing you could in fact be a royal makes me somewhat uncomfortable but not enough for me to hold a grudge against you," he paused for a moment, "I'm guessing the other people who you feel you would be betraying would be Sharn and her brother. Can I ask why?"

Kili gathered his thoughts, thinking about what he could say; what Balin had said. _Talk to him._ At least Derain didn't hate him, in fact, he seemed understanding in a way.

"Sharn and her brother weren't opposed to nobles, it's just that they questioned their liability. In all those years, it took them this long to act. If they had of done something sooner…Sharn always blamed them at least partially for Arón's death. And to accept my place would be to tarnish both their memories." Kili looked at his hands, shivering as the cold breeze blew against him.

"You know, I am sure Sharn would understand if she were here. One of her wishes was that you would find your family again." Kili looked up, surprised by Derain's comment.

"Really?" he asked. Derain smiled.

"She may not have told you and she definitely didn't tell me, but it was clearly obvious. To her, family was important; something that everyone should have."

Kili shivered again as the air grew colder. The clouds overhead darkened and Derain looked towards the sky.

"Come on, let's get you inside before Oin kills us both for allowing you to catch a cold."

Guiding the brown haired dwarf back inside, Derain seated him on his bed and patted his friend on the shoulder.

"See you I suppose," he said before walking off. Kili watched him go.

Family.

Maybe it was time he confronted his own.

** Please review (again, I would like to thank you for the ones I have been receiving). **


	28. Brotherly Heart-To-Heart

**Note: **

**This could have gone better but I hope you enjoy it. Next chapter, Thorin and Kili interact. **

**Chapter 27 - Brotherly Heart-To-Heart**

Kili took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Opening them, he exhaled and continued to walk forward towards where his brother was sharpening his blades. He paused behind the blonde, working up the courage to speak, panting slightly from the toll the exercise had taken on his still healing body.

"Why don't you sit down before you pass out from overexertion and send Oin into a fit?"

Kili eased himself down next to Fili, wincing as he felt an all too familiar discomfort lance up his side. Fili turned to face him.

"I'm guessing you escaped Oin's care then." Fili's blue eyes penetrated deeply into Kili's own brown ones. Kili looked down and bit his lip.

"Well I wouldn't exactly say escaped." He nodded to where Derain was discretely keeping a close eye on him.

"Ah, Oin's secret lackey; where your concerned in any case. Guess you can't catch a break."

Kili had no idea how much he had missed Fili's talk but now, as he listened, he wondered how he had not realised before; how he could have forgotten. Fili sensed his mood and turned to face him, ceasing in sharpening his blades.

"I've missed you." Somehow, Kili couldn't summon up the courage to reply to his brother. Fili sighed. "Kili, you have no idea what I've been through in the past five years, what uncle has been through. We thought you were dead, killed by one of the foul goblins we fought against in the battle for Erebor. And the rest of the company…we all mourned for a long time. To see you here, now…well, it's nothing short of a miracle."

Kili felt blood begin to pool in his mouth, and immediately relinquished the grip his teeth had on his bottom lip. He swallowed the warm fluid subconsciously as he tried to rack his brain for a response that fitted what his brother had just told him. None came to mind. He couldn't exactly say that he missed him because he hadn't known he had had a brother and Fili had always been able to see past any lie he conjured up.

_"Kili, what's wrong?" Fili sat down next to his brother._

_"It's nothing," Kili snapped back, "Go away! I hate you! You're always sticking your nose in my business." Fili frowned at the dwarf's response._

_"You don't hate me."_

_"I do hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Fili grabbed his brother's failing hands, unperturbed by his brother's response._

_"You don't and you know it." Fili watched as Kili burst into tears at his comment._

_"I do. I really do hate you." It was a childish wail of a six year old and Fili was old enough not to believe him._

_"You don't Kili, you don't hate me. You're just saying that because you're mad." Six year old Kili suddenly lunged at his brother and held on for dear life._

_"I don't hate you. I was just saying that to make you go away. Please don't hate me for saying that." Kili looked up at Fili, eyes wide and watery._

_"Why don't you tell me what's going on."_

The memory dampened Kili's mood even more. But was that not always the way. He dug himself into a deep hole of pain and misery before Fili came along and dug him out. It had always worked before but this time his blonde brother had five years worth of despair to rescue him from. Not that it had ever stopped him before.

"Kili, you know you can talk to me about what's on your mind, so why don't you tell me what's going on." Fili's words were the exact same from the memory and Kili gulped, almost breaking into tears as the full weight of them hit him. He had forgotten what it was like to confide in his brother, even so, he couldn't form the words.

"Fili, I…" He trailed off, still unsure of what to say. It didn't matter as Fili had started talking again.

"I know it must be hard for you, forgetting who you were and then finding out in a near-death experience. Believe me when I say that when you were hit by that arrow, I nearly had a heart attack. Thorin did too. Dwalin all but had a fit. Oin and Balin took the situation a bit better." Fili's statement made a question rise to the forefront of Kili's brain, a question he had forgotten to ask his friend that was still watching him.

"Do you know what was going on between Dwalin and Derain? What Dwalin asked Derain to do?" he asked. Fili smiled.

"I know Dwalin asked him to watch you. You might not have known who you were to us, but Dwalin certainly had an idea, as did we all, though Thorin may have been more than reluctant to place faith in the fact you were Kili."

"About that, I'm not sure I can be the Kili you knew Fili." Kili bit his thumbnail, waiting for how his brother would respond. Fili nodded in understanding,

"Oin said that might be the case. You did start up a whole new life without any connections to your old one and your personality would have changed-"

"Stop. Just stop." said Kili. Fili looked at him in confusion for the first time.

"Stop what?" he asked. Kili looked at him, trying to contain the frustration he knew was leaking into his voice.

"Stop trying to act like you understand what it's like to be torn between being two different people."

"You know, you are more like the past Kili than you think." The comment caught Kili off guard. "Think about it," Fili continued, "Only Kili would snap back at someone like that, assuming they knew nothing of the pain he was going through."

The two were silent as Kili thought this over. Fili resumed sharpening his blades for a while before turning back to his younger brother.

"In the battle when I lost sight of you, I never experienced panic and fear like I experienced it then." Somehow Kili knew his brother wasn't talking about the battle they just had. "At first I thought the goblins had gotten you, but when we found no body, I felt hope that you had survived. The days grew though and it soon became clear that we would find no sign that you were alive. Uncle was distraught; he refused to talk to anyone for ages. Balin was the one who finally got him to come back to his duties, but even then, he was subdued. I myself was heartbroken, but I had to continue on. I was Thorin's only heir to Erebor and had my duties to fulfil. Everyone was watching what we done, Dain especially, waiting for us to make a mistake. When I saw you for the first time in five years, I felt hope spark in my heart again. It was as if it was the will of Durin that we found you."

Fili's speech left Kili speechless.

"Fili, I-" Fili cut him off.

"You don't think Kili, though you are better at thinking now than before I must admit," the blonde dwarf looked at his brother, "You are my brother and nothing can change that. I do not want to loss you again."

Kili didn't even realise that tears were running down his face until his brother pulled him into a hug, one much like that he had experienced when the orcish archer had sent an arrow through him.

"Fili, I-" he tried again but Fili cut him off for a second time.

"Stop talking Kili," he said as he rested his head on top of his brother's brown hair, "I know," he paused for a moment, "I see you still haven't gotten to braiding your hair."

Through his tears, Kili smiled.

** I think there are only two more chapters after this one before I end this story. Please review and tell me what you think.**


	29. Desicions

**Note: **

**Next chapter will most likely be the last chapter (and short). I am also thinking of doing an extra, alternate ending chapter at the very end. Thanks for continuing to follow my story.**

**I forgot to add/mention something in the last chapter so decided to mention it in this one. A review for chapter 23 (Remember) reminded me. **

**Also, if you have already read this chapter and then received an alert about me updating again, sorry. I overlooked something while editing and changed it.**

**Chapter 28 - Decisions **

Kili stirred groggily against the sheets, hands clenching and unclenching as various nightmares plagued him. He moaned, pain twinging up his side as he rolled onto it. Large, rough hands rolled him back. He opened his eyes. Sad, blue eyes smiled back at him.

"Thorin…" he began. The king fidgeted with his braid; upbraiding than rebraiding it multiple times, regarding Kili all the while.

"You seem to be recovering fine." Kili had a sneaking suspicion that his uncle was referring to more than just the wound he had received weeks ago.

From what both Fili and Derain had said, his uncle had suffered a lot and he had been the source of that suffering. Laying down with Thorin right there in front of him made the guilt he felt rise up, almost swallowing him.

"Thorin-" but his uncle cut in.

"Durin's beard Kili, I had all but given up of finding you. I couldn't believe my own eyes when I saw you in that village and I couldn't believe my ears when Balin told me. To my shame, though my brain acknowledged who you were, my heart refused to right up until the point where you dead and I brought you back. Right up until you muttered your brother's name. I couldn't bear the pain of allowing myself to believe it was you than finding out you weren't him."

Kili bit his the inside of his lip, feeling his guilt increase as his uncle talked. The dwarf king had suffered so much; the loss of his home, his grandfather, his father, his brother and his sister. He had been in multiple battles and seen the extent of the damage. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the memories he had of the battle.

_A scream of agony rang out beside him…broken bodies and corpses underfoot…looking half out of his mind…ground slick with blood…the bodiless head fell to the ground…rusty swords snapped in two…fell prey to an axe…_

"Kili, the rest of the company will be so glad to see you're alive-"

"Uncle," he said, eyes still closed, "Sorry, but I'm tired." Kili could hear Thorin grunt beside him.

"Alright lad, I'll leave you to rest," said the king, a sad disappointment dripping from his voice. Kili felt like he had just stabbed someone in the heart; he certainly felt as sick as he had when he had literally performed the action. Something like that imprinted on you, even if it was a goblin or orc that had been killed.

Kili listened as his uncle's footsteps made their way to the door. He sniffed as he heard the door open then close. Mahal, even now he was causing his uncle pain; he could tell by the way the older dwarf had spoken as he left. And Thorin was disappointed with him; nothing had changed except the fact that he had been missing for five years. He breathed a desolated sigh. The dwarf king had always been hard to please. He thought back to what Thorin had said.

_My heart refused right up until the point where you were dead and I brought you back._

Another memory flooded his mind, swallowing up Thorin's words and adding a past image to them.

_…his brain was screaming at him to give it oxygen, but he did not have the strength to. Lips closed around his and he felt air being blown into his lungs, once, twice, three times…_

So Thorin had been the one to give him air when he could not breath it in himself. In other words, he had saved his life. As if Kili didn't need anything more to owe him besides his whole life up until that moment. And even then…if Thorin had not raised him and his brother the way they had they probably would have died one way or another a long time ago. He felt a hand stroke his head and he nearly jumped out of his skin, eyes snapping open.

"You shouldn't try to avoid people if you have something to talk to them about Kili."

The brown haired dwarf had thought his uncle had left the room. Obviously not judging from the fact that Thorin was again standing over him. Kili pointedly avoided meeting the somewhat intimidating dwarf's gaze, not trusting himself to speak.

"Kili, you should not need to feel nervous around me. I am your uncle and have known you since you were born," Thorin said, drawing Kili's eyes back to him. Kili swallowed.

"You might have known me then, but I'm not sure you know me now." Thorin raised his eyebrows at Kili's statement.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that compared to the Kili you used to know, I am different, changed," Kili sighed, "I'm not sure I can be who you want me to be." Thorin frowned at this.

"What do you mean?" he asked again. Kili swallowed. He was wary as to how to tell his uncle, his king how he felt.

"I'm not sure whether or not I want to come back with you to Erebor." To Kili's surprise, his uncle did not, in fact, seem at all shocked by this comment. It was as if he had been expecting it.

"And why not?" Thorin's question was one that _Kili_ had not been expecting, though he should have when he thought about it.

"Your heir was Kili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain. It was not Bow who had no past but did have a dead family and was a blacksmith, nor was it Kili who forgot half his life, got married under another name, whose family resulting in him running away and joining the army, then remembering who he was after being almost fatally shot by an arrow. That's not to mention the brutality he saw in battle." It felt good to let it all out, even if it was to Thorin.

"No wonder you've been avoiding me. You have a lot on your mind." Again Thorin's response to what he had said surprised the younger dwarf.

Thorin moved to sit next to Kili on the bed, folding his hands on is lap as he thought about what to say. The younger dwarf eased himself up, wincing every now and then as he felt a subtle pain lance up his side from his almost healed wound.

"How can you be so calm about it?" Kili asked. Thorin looked at him and smiled.

"I may be king but I am not a tyrant and I will not force you into anything. If you do not want to come back to Erebor and take up your position it is your choice. I know for one that your brother would be sorely disappointed as would the rest of the company." There was the Thorin he had known.

"Are you trying to guilt me into going with you back to the mountain?" Thorin smiled at his nephew's question.

"Maybe. I will not order you into coming, but if I can convince you then I see no reason to why I should not do so. You do not seem so much different to me than the past Kili, and not just in the aspect of your linage. It is not so easy to change a person's character even though you seem to believe otherwise. At heart you are still the Kili I know."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Kili said. Thorin didn't lose his smile as he got up to walk away.

"I am sure you will come. Think about it."

**Please Review.**


	30. Epilogue-Blood

**Note: **

**This is the end, the last chapter of the story. I decided against doing another chapter with an alternate ending so please enjoy this chapter (it's shorter than usual). **

**Epilogue - Decisions **

Erebor was in turmoil as all the dwarves within the great city capable of walking or being carried along the halls were gathered in the main hall and the immediate surround areas with the exception of a small room towards the back. There was a high tension amidst the crowd and a murmuring amongst them. All were waiting for their heroic king to address them.

Thorin took his place on his throne and motioned for silence. He made his address and the short silence that followed resulted in a great uproar as the dwarves of Erebor celebrated the good news.

The young dwarf shifted nervously as the cheers of the dwarfs on the other side of the door reached him. He was uncomfortable in the long blue robe he wore and his side twinged painfully when he shifted his weight though Oin claiming it was now fully healed. A hand rested on his shoulder and the dwarf turned to see Fili standing beside him.

"Just be yourself," he said. The younger dwarf nodded and turned back to face the doors, taking in a deep breath.

"Here." He felt the blue robe slide off his shoulders, leaving him in his woollen breeches, blue tunic and leather coat. He accepted the bow Fili gave him, slinging it across his back.

Fili grabbed the younger dwarf's hand and looked into his dark brown eyes.

"It was right for you to accept your heritage and past, but you should not forget who you were in the five years in which you forgot everything and everyone. Besides," he said smirking, "You deserve to be nervous after all you put us through." Somehow that last comment didn't help Fili's brother much in ways of reassuring him.

Fili sighed and moved to embrace his brown haired sibling, drawing him into a rough and tight hug. They stayed like that for a few seconds before pulling apart. Fili looked at the large pair of doors in front of them.

"Together brother?" he asked. Kili nodded.

"Aye, together."

The two brothers walked side by side through the doors and into the mass of cheering dwarves, heads held high.

The King Under the Mountain smiled as he saw his two nephews approach him, one dressed in the regal robes of a prince, his golden hair pulled back into the royal braids, and the other dressed in a common hunter's clothes, hair wild, untamed and unbraided, the bow on his back a symbol of his astounding skill.

They were his kin, Thorin thought proudly, and, what was more, they were his blood.

**There you go. THE END. Thanks to everyone who followed, reviewed or added the story to their favourites list. Feel free to review this chapter.**


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